#i wouldn’t divorce my partner if he made me these i would straight up Kill Her

[arachnid-party]

this is why he’s divorced

[quirklessidiot]

title : cigarettes and parfaits [4]  pairing : older!nanami kento x younger!reader [13 year age gap, ft toji fushiguro] Genre: romance, fluff, slice of life, josei, angst, comedy, strangers to lovers au

Summary: you’re pretty sure you’d remember marrying a man 13 years older than you, right? Warnings: alcohol, smoking, mild smut, y/n making stupid decisions, cliche fluff, everyones a human-au so yeh non-canon stuff and everyone’s happy (periODT)

Notes: lil development right there HAHSHSHHS , yes tojis appearing soon guYS hddhdhdh thank u for ur patience ily all and yall stay safe and drink lots and ltos of water!! sorry for the late update!

Masterlist || taglist || [prev ; next] [updates; every saturday!]

You stare at the ring on your hand as you stand next to Nanami Kento in the grocery shop, you and him have agreed to see each other and go out once a week while fixing up the divorce papers. 

Last week you both had gone to a cafe after work but had to end early since Yuuji had fell down the stairs (despite being athletic, the boy was awfully clumsy). This week, you both decided to do something mundane.

Grocery shopping.

“Hm, what does Yuuji think about this?” You asked, showing the man some bars of rice krispies, “He seems to be a sweet-tooth.”

“Sukuna is the sweet-tooth, Yuuji isn’t really picky with food.”

“Huh,” You hummed,  “Sukuna seems so soft despite all the tattoo’s.”

Nanami rolls his eyes at your statement, “He’s just, as kids like to call these days, a nerd.” he retorts, taking the peanut butter off the shelf and carefully placing it in the grocery cart, “He enjoys mathematics and art,”

“Ah, hence the tattoo’s.” you thought out loud.

“I almost lost it when he went home a few months ago looking like that.” He sighs, running his hands through his hair, “It was a sign of rebellion, saying that he didn’t want to move to Tokyo.”

You chuckled, eyes on him, “Must’ve shot up your blood pressure, Kento.”

He clicks his tongue in dismay, the memory still fresh. Nanami Kento    unlike what Gojo Satoru said    was a very easy person to like and accompany. Ever since that ‘mild’ mishap two weeks ago, you’d have calls and little quick meet-ups aside from the once a week dates. 

At times it felt like the little wedding at the Izakaya hadn’t happened, it was as if you were just going out with him.

Nanami Kento didn’t even have to try so hard to make you comfortable, he was just...there and everything just seemed right. He had easily fit right in with your routine.

You continue to watch him and he stops in the middle of his tracks, blinking heavily, “Ah,” he mumbles, placing a hand over his eye.

“Oh,” you paused in your tracks too, “Are you alright, Kento?”

“Just dust,” He mumbles, “It probably got in.”

You hold back a laugh, how mundane, “Here, let me…”

You slowly take his hand away from his face, his eyes shut tight, trying to hold in the pain from the dust getting in his eyes, “Do you mind bending down a bit lower, Kento?” you ask, “I’ll have to blow it out of your eye.”

Nanami follows your orders and bends down. You slowly cup his cheeks and lean in closer to his eyes and softly blow. You notice the slight twinge of his body, the reaction making you inwardly giddy, “Feel better?” you whispered.

The older man opens his eyes and only then do you notice just how close you two were with each other. For a moment, movement around you is slow and you don’t even notice Maki Zen’in standing right in front of you along with Yuta Okkatsu.

“Sensei?”

You finally snap back to reality when you hear that very familiar voice calling you out. It seemed like Nanami had been caught up in the moment too, “Oh,” You cleared your throat, letting go immediately of Nanami’s face and jumping back, “Maki-chan.Yuta-kun. What a surprise.”

The young girl narrowed her eyes while Yuta’s ears were evidently red, signaling that he felt very embarrassed to walk in on that moment, “Hi sensei.” Yuta greets, clearing his throat, “I-uh sorry about that, I told Maki to walk away and-”

“It’s fine, Yuta-kun.” You laugh, a bit nervous. What would happen if she told Yuji and Sukuna about this? You knew how Maki was sort of close with the twins, although she did not know who Nanami was, she may describe him and if the boys were smart enough to catch on with it, you’d be entangled in it pretty quickly and you weren’t ready to meet them as their ‘oji-san’s’ partner. 

You were a bit nervous and it was showing.

Nanami takes quick notice of this and slowly wraps his fingers around yours, a small smile appearing on his lips, “Good afternoon, you must be my partner’s students.” he greets, the man had a way with younger ones, you could only imagine how he was as a father figure to the boys growing up,  “It’s nice to finally put some faces on the kids that Y/N loves to gush about.”

Unlike your nervousness a while ago, this man is calm, cool, and collected. You almost envy him at how good he’s doing this.

“At least you picked someone better than Toji-ojisan.” Maki nods, “This guy looks actually more serious with life than him.”

You feel Nanami’s brow quirk up at what she just said.

“A-Anyways, Sensei…” Yuta clears his throat, “We’ll leave you and your boyfriend together. See you at Math class tomorrow!” He hurriedly grabs Maki’s wrist and zooms away at a speed of light. Leaving you two awkwardly standing there.

“Toji?” Nanami asks, curiously peering at you, “An admirer, I assume?”

“Megumi’s otosan.” You mumbled, embarrassed, “He likes to play jokes and all that. It’s nothing serious.”

“Hm.” he mumbled, a small dismayed look crossed his features and you wonder why, “If he does anything uncomfortable, you can pull my name out. I wouldn’t mind.”

“I’ll be sure to take note of that.” 

You both continue your way down the grocery aisle, not even noticing that he still has his long hand wrapped around yours.

“Y/N-sensei…” Nobara drawled, placing her head on top of the wooden end of the mop, “How come we never knew you had a boyfriend?”

“Oi,” Megumi growled, “You’re supposed to be cleaning.”

“You’re just jealous that Y/N-sensei didn’t get to be your new okaasan.” Nobara bit back, putting her tongue out. You watched as the raven-haired boy chunk the blackboard eraser at her direction, a vein popping in his forehead.

“Stupid,” He replied, “I’d never let Y/N-sensei near the jiji.”

“What’s he like, Y/N-sensei?” Junpei asked, tapping his chin, cutting the argument short,  “I heard Maki-senpai talking about him.”

You watch as Yuuji placed his head on his best friend’s shoulder, “Yeah, she was telling me how older he looked than you.” he exclaimed, you nervously gulped down. Yuuji sure wasn’t helping the situation at all.

“Well,” You chuckled, trying to remain calm and oblivious, “He’s nice and he has kids.”

“Ha.” Sukuna droned, stopping whatever he was doing,  his punishment     despite not being given any by Nitta    was helping the cleaners clean for the whole week, much to his dismay, he had to follow or you’d be giving him a slip, “You’re dating an old man? I thought the reason why you didn’t date the Zen’in-jiji was because he was old and he had kids.”

“Oh.” you looked down on your books on the desk, embarrassed, “I don’t have a problem with kids. In fact, I’d love to meet them.”

“Wah,” Yuuji’s eyes were sparkling now as he hurried in front of you and placed his elbows on top of your table and head on top of his hands, “I hope I really get to meet someone like you, sensei.”

“Stupid, I doubt any sane person would want to go with you.” Nobara said across the room, making Yuuji glare at her and started teasing her.

You chuckled once again at their antics. Meanwhile Sukuna continues to stare at you, eyes narrowing especially at the ring on your ring finger. For some odd reason, it held quite the familiarity.

Yuuji likes to think that Nanamin is the best godfather out there, technically, he was like a father to them already. So he had always wondered why he never got married, he was sure that when they were out a few times, many women would crowd for their ojisan. 

His father’s very close friend, Haibara-ojisan had mentioned one fleeting moment back when he was babysitting them that Nanamin was very secretive on who he liked that even he didn’t know if he’d ever been in a relationship.

But things were different these days, for the past two weeks, he’d have one day wherein he’d go home later than usual. It was odd to say the least    and not like he minded really, they were high school kids after all     since Nanamin hated overtimes.

He mentioned it to Sukuna but his twin just rolled his eyes and said, “Man probably needs to chase the bag or something, he technically is paying for this nice house and two freeloaders here.” 

Yuuji doubted it though! Nanamin earned pretty well and he didn’t really need overtime since he was technically the boss or so he heard from Geto-ojisan a few nights ago.

So while he was making them some katsudon for dinner that night and Yuuji was doing some homework for your class, he decided to ask the question.

“Saaay, nanamin-ojisan…” he drawled, placing his pen down, “You’re coming home a lot later than normal these days…”

The older blonde turns to the younger twin, face still straight-lace and stoic, something that Yuuji was accustomed to, “Work has me by the neck.” he replies shortly.

“Every wednesday’s?” he quips, tilting his head to the side.

“Yes.”

“You aren’t dating anyone?”

Silence erupted between them, the only sound could be heard was the sizzling of the chicken on the pan, “What made you say that?” he asked stiffly and maybe, if Yuuji was ignorant, he wouldn’t have noticed the slight twitch of his brow but he wasn’t.

Yuuji prided himself to be an observant person, someone had said he could pass off to be a detective in the near future, he had the agility and the observation skills (sukuna said otherwise though and said he’d get himself killed if he were to ever enter that field)

“You sometimes have that weird look on your face when you look at your phone.” the boy pointed out, “But Sukuna says you’re just chasing the bag so maybe he’s right, he’s kind of the smarter twin after all.” he mumbles the last part with great disdain.

Nanami lowers the fire on the stove and places his hands on the counter in front of Yuuji, “What if I told you I was sort of seeing someone?” he mused, humoring the young boy. 

“Are you really?” Yuuji’s eyes widened, surprised written all over his features, “What are they like, Nanamin-ojisan? Are they pretty? Do they know about us?”

“Oi what’s the noise about?” Sukuna’s raspy voice cuts through Yuuji’s excited one as he enters the kitchen, hair still wet from the shower and in house clothes with a towel hung on his neck.

“I told you Nanamin-ojisan was seeing someone!” Yuuji yelled, eyes sparkling since he was right this time, he quickly returned his gaze back to the older man, “When do we get to see them? Are they nice? How’d you guys even meet?”

“You’re seeing someone?” Sukuna spat, eyes wide in complete surprise, “How’d you even get someone to stay around with your uptight attitude?”

“Yah!” Yuuji yells, “Nananmin-ojisan is nice with women unlike you, no wonder girls are very scared to approach you!”

“Shut up,” Sukuna grumbles towards his twin then turns towards his godfather, “How the hell did you even meet?”

Nanami just shrugs, telling them they’ll know soon enough as he returns to his cooking. The boys seemed to dislike his answer though and continued to bug him. After cooking dinner and having their fill, he returns to his room and whips out his phone, a text message from you saying, ‘hey, the boys asked me about you earlier. They heard from maki-chan.’

The blonde wonders if he weren’t drunk, would he even consider doing this sort of thing? Dating was really out of the question, he admits he isn’t in the right place to go out with anyone especially with a young person like you. 

He thinks he’s taking advantage of the power-dynamics since he’s older.

He doesn’t even deny how weird it was that you're still hanging around him especially when you had a far richer man as one of your admirers. Satoru may or may not have overhead Yuuji gossiping about you one time and your ‘relation’ with Megumi’s father, it was definitely a small world and judging from the Toji you had mentioned a few days ago, it wasn’t hard to connect the dots that it was actually Toji Zen’in, a member of one of japan’s high business clans.

He shakes his head before pressing the call button, it only takes a few rings until you answered, “Hey kento.” You greeted, “What’s up?”

He hears the sound of a whizzing electric mixer on the other line.

“Boys gave you trouble?”

“No,” he could almost feel the smile on your words, “They were just surprised I liked a man with kids.”

“I reckoned, Yuuji seemed to have caught up too in my side. Been asking why I’m going overtime.” 

Silence settled between you two for a moment and Nanami wonders if you’re scared out of your wits. You might be backing out this deal after testing those waters, “Maybe you should tell me when I could meet them then? We wouldn’t want them to run into us during one of our outings or when we’re fixing up the divorce.” you replied softly.

“Hm,” he mumbled, “I’ll be sure to ask them about that. For a temporary setting, you sure take this matter quite seriously, Y/N.”

“Well, I did say I’d help you out.” 

A small smile reaches his lips as he hears your small and shy voice. It seemed like having people to check up on you by the end of the day wasn’t so bad, after all.

taglist [if crossed out, i can’t tag u ; - ;]

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@Kurok1717 ;  @hcn421 ;  @shinhiromi ;  @airybnb ; @katshuya ; ​@atsuhaya ;  @donotcallagain ; @answerthesirens

[emf005]

Love is real

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff! Reader

Warnings: FLUFF!! Draco is a complete softy and it's adorable, talk of suicide, confusion, a bit of angst...

Summery: You are a huffelpuff who doesn't belive in love. Draco is unsatisfied and devises a plan to get you to belive and possibly fall, in love.

You set your chin on Draco’ shoulder and looked at what he was doing. Potions. Groan. You hated potions with a passion.

“Draaaaacooooo!” you sang in his ear. He tried to keep a straight face but just ended up biting his lip from trying not to laugh. “Draaaaaaacoooooo,” you sang again.

“Yes, Y/N?” He asked, attempting and failing to hold back a chuckle.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Potions.” You frowned.

“But I’m sooooo much more interesting!” You grinned. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Yes, Darling, you are. But I need to finish this.”

“Why?”

“Because it's graded.”

“Why?”

“Because Snape made it that way.”

“Wh-” he put a hand over your face and glanced at you with an arched eyebrow.

“You aren’t going to let me get anything done, are you?” You shook your head like a little kid. He chuckled and took his hand away from your face and set down his quill. “You just don't like potions because you aren’t a natural at it.” You pouted at his completely true statement.

“It's boring! And Snape has a personal vendetta against me!” You crossed your arms and pouted, making him laugh.

“Aw, you poor thing,” he teased, rolling his eyes and going back to his work. You took a seat next to him and put your hands on your arms. He worked silently for a few minuets before finishing and packing everything up. “I still can’t believe you made me take muggle studies with you,” he huffed as he slung his bag over his shoulder. You giggled and walked with him through the halls.

“It's an easy grade!”

“For you maybe! You're halfblooded! I still don’t understand the function of a toaster! What's its purpose?”

“To toast bread! It is literally in its name!” You laughed.

“And then phones. What is the purpose when you can just send a letter?” You giggled and took your seats near the back of the class.

“It's faster! And plus it's like talking face to face but from long distances!” He just shook his head and leaned back in his seat.

“Magical culture is just better.” He sighed and you rolled your eyes.

“Welcome everyone! Welcome welcome!” The professor called out to the class. “Today we will be discussing muggle stories.” He said excitedly, though most of the class didn't want to even be there. “We are starting with Romeo and Juliet By William Shakespeare.” You groaned and slouched in your seat. Draco raised an eyebrow at you.

“What's with the reaction?”

“This is one of the most Cliché plays ever.” You hissed. “The love,” you made a gagging noise.

“A Hufflepuff who isn't a fan of love?” he teased, but you just glared at him. His smirk fell. “Wait, you really don’t believe in love?”

“It's a chemical reaction humans have to other humans. Its natural instinct to get them to reproduce,” you explained with a curt nod. He just stared at you.

“You must be joking.” You stared him down before turning back to the professor to listen about the play that is so overrated.

“Y/N!” Draco called, running down the hallway after you. “Y/N, wait a second!” You paused and smiled as he caught up with you. “You can't just say something like that and just leave.”

“I think I just did. And I’m about to do it again.” You turned and started walking away but he grabbed your wrist.

“Why though? You're a Hufflepuff!”

“And you're stereotyping again. Listen, Draco,” you sighed and rubbed your temples. “My home life isn't the best. Love lacks in nearly all aspects of my life. You can care for something deeply, but love isn’t… its not…. Its a lie.”

“You can’t actually believe that.” You shrugged, tugging at your sleeves.

“All my life, its what I’ve seen. My mother and father have been through more divorces than I can count. My siblings are in horrible relationships and they are at their partners throats all the time.” You admitted quietly. “Someone is always in tears because their heart is being torn out. If love was real they wouldn’t constantly be miserable,” you turned and slipped your wrist from his grasp and took off down the hallway. He just watched after you.

He had been friends with you since first year, complained to you about his home life, about his expectations, and all the while… you were dealing with your own struggles. How hadn’t he noticed that before? Well, he was going to change that. He’d get you to believe in love. He didn't know how, but he would!

“Y/L/N!” You turned to Draco as he jogged down the hall at you. You were heading to muggle studies. You smiled at your friend as he slowed to a walk.

“Where's the fire?”

“I have a proposition for you. A bet of a sort.” You hummed, never able to turn down a bet. “If I am able to get you to believe in love by the Yule Ball, you have to go. Not with someone, you just have to go.” You cocked your brow at him.

“What if I win?”

“Well, you won’t, but if you do I’ll leave you alone about it.”

“No teasing, no bringing it up?”

“Zip.” You inhaled and thought about it.

“Alright. Deal, Malfoy. If you can do the impossible, then I will go to the Yule Ball. But if not, you have to stop bothering me about it indefinitely.” You stuck out your hand. “Shake on it?”

“Don’t trust me?”

“Can never be too careful with you,” you teased. He shook your hand and you headed to class.

You sat in your usual seat at the back of the class, a copy of Romeo and Juliet sitting on the table. You groaned. He smirked.

“Well, look. The most Cliché story in all of history,” he teased.

“They kill themselves for each other.” You hummed. He paled and looked at the story. “They also get a lot of other people killed in the process.”

“That's horrible!”

“That's romance! People who can control you because they stole your heart! They can manipulate you, think you can’t live without them!” He just stared at you.

“Nothing about love appeals to you at all, does it?”

“No.” You looked away, his eyes widened.

“You’re lying!”

“No.”

“Yes you are!”

“Shush! No, I’m not! Nothing about it appeals to me! It has destroyed people! Why would that be appealing to anyone?” He shook his head.

“That may be true, but you were lying. Are you afraid of it?” You laughed. It was fake.

“Scared of love? That's a good one!” His mouth dropped and you knew there was no getting out of this.” You stood and ran out of the room. You’ve read Romeo and Juliet before, you would get whatever assignment that was given from someone else in the class.

Being afraid of love. What a joke you were. He was probably laughing his head off at you. You would be.

He didn't see you for a few days after that. He wanted to talk to you about what you had said. You did have a bet, but to make sure you were alright.

He sat in the library and he heard your voice from the isles. He jumped up and scurried to where you were. You were trying to reach a book on the shelf but struggling. He grabbed it off the shelf for you and handed it to you.

“Oh! Then-” you paused when you saw him. You turned and started to turn.

“Wait wait wait!” You stopped and turned back around, your eyes were sad.

“What do you want, Draco?” You sighed and looked down. “Wanna laugh at me? The Hufflepuff afraid of falling in love?” He shook his head.

“No! No, I wanted to make sure you were alright. You looked really upset.” You were speechless.

“Oh! Oh. Um, I’m ok.”

“Did you really think I would make fun of you for that?” He looked kind of hurt.

“I mean, maybe? It's ironic how I’m a Hufflepuff and how out of touch with my own, or anyone else's, feelings I am. I don’t trust people, Draco. I never really have. And I trust you, but… this stupid wall that I’ve built up is just to tall for me to tear down. It was better to avoid you and not see you laugh at me,” you said quietly and looked down at your feet. “Uh, sorry.” He just stared at you for a moment before doing something Draco Malfoy did not do. He pulled you into a hug. You were shocked for a second before hugging him back, burying your head in the crook of his neck.

“I understand, I’m sorry,” he muttered to you, and in that moment you realized something. Something utterly horrible and terrible. You did believe in love... because you were in it. You were in it so much, that you didn't even realize that you were in it. And you were in love with your best friend. This could ruin yours and his life. Because that's what love did. It took and it took and it took and then it left you broken on the pavement with no one. You had seen it happen before. You had wanted it so bad up until that moment. And then you had buried that emotion deep inside of you so that you would never have to go through it. But now it was surfacing. Ready to destroy you just like it did to Romeo and Juliet.

Ever since your realization, you had buried it in an even deeper hole, but that hole turned into a cavern that threatened to swallow you. Every time he was near you, talking to you about love and how great it actually could be, your heart was pounding. You were deaf to everything else but him. You hated it. You couldn't stand it! It was tearing you apart from the inside out and you wanted to just die!

No!

No no no no no. No dying. You would not be one of those people. Ever. You would win this bet. You would kill these feelings and be the normal happy Hufflepuff you were known to be!

“Hey, Y/N!” Your stomach fluttered and your heart skipped a beat.

Dammit!

“Hey, Darco,” you said happily, turning around to face him. “What's up?”

“Well, since the bet’s almost over and the Yule Ball is coming up, I have one more idea.” You swallowed. Not another one! This boy was going to kill you.

Stop being such a stereotypical Juliet!

“I think it would only be fitting to give you the full experience of what it can be like.”

You chuckled softly and readjusted your books. “Oh yeah, Dray? Like what? Take me on a date?” You teased.

“Actually yeah.” You stopped walking. Your heart stopped beating. Your entire body stopped functioning.

“Wh-what?”

“I mean, let's be honest. I can tell you everything that's great about it and how every relationship doesn’t end up with someone getting their heart broken, but you have to actually see what a romantic situation is!”

No!!!

“Yeah sure,” you shrugged. “When and where?” He beamed.

“I’ll pick you up at your dorm tomorrow at seven.” He smiled and walked on. Your smile dropped and you nearly collapsed.

Why did I agree! Why why why why? What the fuck is wrong with me?

You smacked your head off the wall earning a few strange looks from your peers but didn't stick around to see if they would ask you if you were ok or not. You took off towards the Hufflepuff dorms. Your stomach twisting and turning with every step you took.

You were finally safe in your dorm room only to see your friend, Maria, staring at you from her bed.

"Y/N? What's wrong? Why do you look like you've been running away from something?" You started to sob and she was in her feet with her arms around you within two seconds, shushing you and telling you it was alright. But it wasn't. "What happened?"

"Re-remember when I told you about my family. And how my mum and dad have been divorced and-and my siblings always end up crying over lost loves and and and how my brother threw himself off a bridge because-because of it? And I promised to never be caught in that trap?"

"Honey you didn't." You let out another sob. "It's ok. It's ok. Who?"

"Dra-Draco. And-and he asked me out on a fake date and I-I accepted and I don't know what to do!" You wailed. She kept silent for a moment.

"Well, I've known you've been in love with that boy since day one and he's-even if he hasn't realized it yet-has been in love with you just as long. Now, I'll tell you what we are going to do."

"What-what?" She helped your face in her hands and looked you in the eyes seriously.

"We are going to get you all dolled up for this date, whether or not it's real. You are going to knock this boy's socks off."

"But-but our bet. I-I can't lose. I can't go to the Ball!"

"Sure you can. And I bet you anything, you'll be going as his date," she smiles and holds you. "When's this date with him?"

"Tomorrow at seven," you sniffled. She nodded.

"Then it looks like we have a date to start getting you ready for." She smiles at you and you smiled gratefully back.

Xx

Draco was pacing his dorm room twisting the ring on his finger. Why had he done that? He had asked you out on a fake date. If he was going to ask you out he wanted it to be real. He flipped on his bed with a groan. What had he gotten himself into? He had fallen for a girl who didn't believe in love. How lovely.

He had wanted to ask her to the Ball. Perhaps as more than just friends. But when he asked if she had a date, she said she wasn't going. This whole thing was exhausting. He did see what she meant. The love in her family did seem…Stressed. But that didn't mean all love was terrible. Right?

"Merlin," he mumbled and ran a hand through his hair. "What am I getting myself into?"

Xx

Maria zipped up the back of your orange and red dress. She had put together the best outfit for the occasion. She had given you black leggings under the dress and a pair of boots with a black infinity scarf and a heavy jean jacket. Then she did your hair up in a high ponytail and a black scrunchie around your Y/H/C hair. She had put oranges and yellows and reds as your eyeshadow and a darker lip stick on you. You looked great.

She smiled at her good work and helped you put your jacket on. Maria squealed behind you, obviously excitedly she wouldn't stop talking about how she had shipped the two of you since the day you met. It was slightly irritating, especially considering you didn't exactly know how to feel. Should you be happy? Sad? Angry? What were you supposed to be feeling?

You sighed and collapsed on your bed, ready to go to sleep right then. The makeup was heavy and you weren't used to having so much of your cleavage exposed, courtesy of Maria's dirty mind.

"Maria, I don't know, isn't this a but…Much? It's not even a real date!"

"Riiiight," she winked at you, making you huff and cross your arms. You felt like you were going to vomit. Maybe you could get away with not going because you were sick?

"Y/N?" Jess knocked on the door and smiled at you. "Wow, looking good. Anyhow, Draco said you were expecting him?" You frowned. Too late. You stood and brushed off your dress looking back at Maria who gave you a thumbs up. You attempted a weak smile and left your dorm room. Your stomach was a wreck, your head hurt from thinking and you were exhausted from lack of sleep.

You had spent all night trying to think of what to do. You didn't want to end up like your brother, or your family, or Juliet. Up until this point… Until Draco… you were perfectly content with being sure love was horrible. And you were still fine with that! But, what if it wasn't? What if it was great? What if it was all perfect and then it just went up in flames like you've watched every relationship around you end up. You opened the portal and stepped out.

Draco was standing there looking around the hallway awkwardly and bouncing in the balls of his feet. He looked at you as soon as you stepped out of the portal and his jaw dropped. You bit your lip and looked down.

"I-I can go get changed if I did it wrong? Maria helped and-"

"You look beautiful," he assured you, taking your hand in his. You swallowed trying to steal your heart.

No no no no! Stop being so sweet! I hate love I hate love I hate love!

"Tha-thanks," you stuttered out. He smiled and pulled you after him.

"Come on. I got everything planned!" He smiled childishly, making you laugh and run after him as he pulled you.

When Draco said he had everything planned, he wasn't joking. He had pulled you up to the Astronomy Tower where he had had a picnic setup and a bubble spell cast around the area so that the wind wouldn't affect the two of you. You gaped at the scene.

"Woah," you whispered, he laughed and pulled you down besides him. And the weird part of it? It wasn't awkward. It was perfectly normal in every way. It was just like talking with your friend, but the butterflies of him being so close were definitely a difference.

After that you two went around the grounds, him keeping you under his arm to protect you from the winds and the chill, which worked. But you really don't need it because you were all warm inside from him being so close.

Did he always smell this good? Peppermint and pine?

Odd combination that strangely worked for him.

Oh my God! Stop it! You can not fall in love! Or, rather fall farther in love.

And it didn't help that Draco was a perfect gentleman. He offered you his jacket when he noticed you were shivering on your own, but you just laughed him off saying that he would be cold.

"Not with you here keeping me company," was his response and put the jacket over your shoulders. You blushed and grabbed the jacket to hold it tighter.

The night went too fast and you often forgot that it was a fake date. It was just to prove to you that love wasn’t bad. That love was real. And you hated that he was right.

“So.” he said at the end of the night, his hands in his pockets as he swayed between his heels and toes.

“So.”

“Who wins?” You looked up at him confused. “Do you believe love is real?” You swallowed and looked down, sliding his jacket off your shoulders.

“Yeah. Maybe. You win,” You handed him his jacket back, which he hesitantly took back. You laughed and shook your head. “Looks like I have to hurry up and go dress shopping.” You smiled at him and pressed the combination to enter the Common room. The door opened and you stepped in, stopping before closing the door. “Thanks, Darco,” You smiled at him over your shoulder. “I’ll-I’ll see you tomorrow,” you entered and shut the door, his mouth still open from where he was trying to say something. Anything. But nothing ever came out. This wasn't how tonight was supposed to go.

He slunk off to his dorm room with slumped shoulders and his jacket on his arm.

Your back hit the wall and tears formed in your eyes. You cried into your arms and shook off the person who put their hand on your arm.

“Y/N/N.” You hiccupped and fell into Maria’s arms. She held you, whispering how sorry she was.

“I was so stupid!” You sobbed. “I-I promised myself I wouldn't become like the rest of my family! I promised myself!”

“You can't help these things, Y/N/N. I’m so sorry.” You cried into her shoulder as she led you up to the dorm room so you two could have some privacy.

You told her how perfect everything was. How he had planned the perfect date and then how you had forgotten it was all completely fake. She just shushed you as you sobbed. Saying it would be alright. The worst part though? Now you had to go to the Yule Ball and see him there with some other girl on his arm.

Why did you have to go and fall in love?

Maria was doing your hair, putting it up in a semi-messy bun with strands falling down the sides of your face. Your Y/F/C dress was dazzling. It flowed out when you spun and was slung off to one side so that one of your shoulders was exposed. Your makeup was done to match your face and although you looked like a princess in your glittering dress, you didn't feel like one.

No one had asked you, but you had to honor your bet with Draco, like he would notice if you weren’t there or not. Maria put her hands on your shoulders, signaling that she was done. You stood and looked yourself over in the mirror, still frowning and feeling self conscience.

The dress hugged the top of your body, making your figure quite noticeable. At least it was higher up than the dress you had worn on your “Date” was. There were sparkles dusting the entire thing and you really did love the dress.

Maria squeezed your shoulder. You looked back at her.

“You’re always welcomed to hang out with me and Nolan,” she offered, but you just shook your head.

“He’s your boyfriend, Maria, I’m not third wheeling. Plus this is your guys’ night.” You smiled at her. She was gorgeous. Her dress was yellow and black with blue underneath it to represent her boyfriend’s house. It was brilliantly beautiful and you couldn't help but just stare in awe at her. She was one of the most beautiful girls in your year. She pulled off anything. She smiled sadly and held your hands.

“Well, if you need the company….”

“I’ll come find you,” you promised. She squeezed your hands again and left the room. You looked yourself over and ran your hands over the dress, something it out before making your way down to the Great Hall.

Awkward wasn’t the word for what you felt. No. You felt something far beyond awkward. You were sitting, alone, at one of the tables on the side, watching Pansy Parkinson throw herself at her date… Draco Malfoy. Your chest tightened. God, he looked perfect. He always did, you had recently noticed, but looking at him now from across the room, twirl her across the room with the stoic face… Your heart beat out of your chest.

“Excuse me?” You looked up to see a Durmstrang student bowing and holding his hand out to you. “Would you, uhm… Dance with me?” You smiled. He was one of the shyer ones you could tell. Not often you found one of them. You took his hand and stood.

“I’d love to.” He smiled and led you out onto the floor. He twirled you around and you laughed. The two of you talked and danced and laughed. He was quite nice. And the awkwardness fell away, but the throbbing of your chest did not.

Draco was “listening” to a story Blaise was telling for the thousandth time. He let his gaze travel the crowd, searching for you for the millionth time that evening. He hadn’t seen you yet and knew you wouldn't back out. He ended up taking Parkinson, which made him want to gag. He finally caught your figure and it took his breath away completely.

Your hair was done up in a fancy messy-ish bun with strands falling into your face. Your make up was simple and your dress… He couldn't stop staring at you. Then he noticed you were being led out onto the floor by someone. A Durmstrang student. He swallowed and followed the two of you out with his eyes.

Your dress flowed around you as you danced with him. Your laugh rang through the crowd as you laughed with him. Your smile was bright as you smiled at him. That wasn't supposed to be a Durmstrang student. That was supposed to be him. Draco Malfoy. It was supposed to be him making you laugh and twirl like that. It should’ve been him making you smile that brightly. He swallowed and left Pansy’s side, making a beeline for you. He tapped the student on the shoulder.

“Mind if I cut in?” The Durmstrang student opened his mouth to probably say yes he did mind, but just ended up shaking his head. He squeezed your hand, whispered something in your ear, and kissed your cheek, making your face flush before leaving the two of you alone.

Draco held out his hand and raised an eyebrow.

“May I have this dance?” You rolled your eyes and took his hand, hating the way you felt electric pulses shoot up your arm.

“You already scared off my only dance partner,” you joked as he led you to the dance floor.

“I’m sorry. Figured I had a right to at least one dance with my best friend.” You chuckled as he twirled you around the floor.

“What about your.. Date?” You glanced at Pansy who was glaring daggers at you. Draco rolled his eyes.

“No one else to take,” he mumbled. You frowned.

“Could have taken me,” You pouted and looked away from him. He seemed shocked by your statement, and honestly you were surprised you said it aloud. “I mean, you are the reason I had to be here in the first place. Thanks for making me miserable by the way.” He scoffed.

“Please, you were having a nice time cuddling up to that Durmstag.”

“Watching me now?”

“Hard to miss.”

“And what's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, but it seems you now believe in the concept in love and are simply… looking for it.” Your jaw clenched and you ripped your hands from his.

“I never was looking for it!” You hissed and stormed out. Draco stood still for a moment before rushing after you.

“Wait! Y/N!” He chased you out of the Great Hall.

“Leave me alone, Draco!” you called over your shoulder.

“Y/N! Just, wait!”

“Go back to your date! I’m sure she’s waiting for-” Draco grabbed your hand and turned you so you fell into him. “You.” You two stared at each other for a second before he releases his grip. You rub your wrist and look away from him.

“What was that about?” He asked after a moment, you didn’t answer. “Y/N.”

“Nothing, Draco. Don’t worry about it,” you muttered.

“Don't worry about it? Of course I’m going to worry about it! You're my best friend, Y/N. How can I not worry about it?”

“Because it's your fault!” You shouted, looking at his eyes, your own watering. You couldn’t do this. You turned away from him and started to walk down the hall again.

“What do you mean ‘my fault’? What's my fault?” You froze and kept your back to him as you answered.

“I was fine, living my life not believing in love. Without believing that it was real and I couldn't be touched by it. That I wouldn’t end up like my family… like my brother,” your voice broke and you turned to him. A single tear escaped your eyes. “But then you had to make me see that I had fallen in love without realizing it. You had to wake me up from my dream. You had to go and make me love you!” You were full on sobbing at this point. Full on screaming. Your chest was heaving and he just stared at you with an open mouth. You wiped the tears from your face and sniffled. “And now,” you added softly. “And now I’m just like the rest of my family.” You buried your face in your hands and started laughing and sobbing all at once. “God! I’m just like my family!” you shook your head. “Might as well just jump off the Astronomy tower now! How about old fashioned-and-and poison myself!” You laughed, tears flowed down your face. “How-How about a dagger then?”

Draco just watched you have your break down. Sobbing and laughing and talking about suicide. He couldn’t move. And when he did, he had no control of his body. He did what he wanted to do from the moment he had met you.

He walked up to you, put his hands on your face and kissed you. You immediately kissed back, not knowing what you were doing in the slightest.

The kiss wasn’t soft. Not in the slightest. It was hard and desperate. You fisted his dress robes and pulled him in tighter against you, trying to get as close as you could to him. When you finally broke for air, you were both gasping for breath. He rested his forehead on yours, still holding your face.

“Never say that again. Any of that.” He rasped, his voice horse from the kiss. Hoarse was better than no voice at all, which is what you were left with. “I can’t lose you. Not now, not ever. I don’t care if you were joking or serious. Please don't scare me like that.�� you pulled away and looked up at him. He looked down at you, his own eyes slightly watery. You opened your mouth to talk but you couldn’t get any words out, so you just closed your mouth and nodded. He sighed and kissed your head.

After a moment you got your voice back.

“So does this mean that you like me back?” You asked. He chuckled and looked down at you, kissing you again, softer this time.

“Yes. This means I like you back,” he smiled and you smiled up at him, eyes still glassy.

Bonus:

“And they lived Happily Ever After,” your daughter read and shut the book. You walked in and leaned on the doorway a smile on your face.

“What were you reading, Sweetie?” She turned the book over and squinted at the cover, sounding out the letters.

“Cinderella?” You nodded.

“A muggle story?”

“I found it in one of the trunks.” You came in and sat down on her bed next to her.

“And what did you think of it?”

“I don't understand it.” Your son walked in the room, a year older than your four year old, and crawled on your lap.

“What don’t you understand?” You asked.

“Well, how can they get married if they just met? How can you truly love someone you don’t even know?” Your son looked up at you for an answer as well and you smiled at the two. You hummed for a moment and leaned back in the bed and stared at the ceiling.

“Well, you can’t.” You answered. “You have to know the person.”

“How do you know if you're in love?” Your son asked. You looked at the boy who had inherited your looks while your daughter had inherited your husband's. You smile at the two and sat up on your elbows.

“Well, you just do. It's odd to explain, really. There's no logic behind love.”

“Never thought I’d hear you say that,” Draco said, walking into the room and settling down on the bed as well, picking your daughter up and settling her on his lap.

“Ha ha.” You laughed sarcastically. “Would you like to explain?”

“Yeah, Dad. How did you and mom know you were in love?” Your son asked, the hopeless romantic he was at age five.

“And what did you mean coming from her?” You daughter added, always the intuitive one. Draco thought about it for a moment and the three of you waited.

“Well, your mother didn’t believe in love, actually.” You smirked and laid back down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Really?” they asked.

“Yep. She had to make it logical. Thought it was all up here,” he poked your daughter on her head, making her giggle.

“Did you really mum?” Your son asked, plopping himself down on your chest so you were staring at his face. You smiled.

“Yes. I didn’t grow up in the best household like you two. You have a fabulous mother.” Draco raised his eyebrows.

“And me?” You glanced at him and smirked.

“You’re alright.” He laughed.

“Thanks, Darling. I really appreciate that.”

“But, how did you two fall in love?” Your daughter asked again, getting slightly irritated.

“Well,” Draco began again. “I knew from the moment I laid eyes on her that I wanted to get to know her. And as I did, I grew to love her.” He smiled at you and grabbed your hand.

“That was so cheesy,” You grinned.

“Never bothered you before.” You rolled your eyes.

“What about you, mum?” Your son asked you with wide eyes. The one thing he had inherited from your husband.

“It sort of hit me all at once. I was so against it for so long, I never realized that I had fallen in love until he hugged me in the library at school.”

“That was where you realized it?” He asked. He hadn’t realized that was the moment you had fallen for him. You nodded. And he paused. “You're telling me that you let me believe you didn't believe in love that entire time?”

“It was only a few weeks.”

“And I could have taken you to the ball.”

“Are we still on that?” You sighed.

“We never left it,” you laughed.

Your children looked at each other in confusion.

“So…” your daughter began. “You slowly fell in love and you hadn't realized you fell in love? I don’t get it.” You smiled at the girl with platinum blond hair.

“One day you will.”

“Will I get it one day too?” He asked, sitting up. You put a hand on his cheek and smiled.

“One day.” You nodded. “Why don't you two go get ready for dinner,” you urged. They scrambled off your laps and ran to the dining room. You smiled and sat up.

Draco took you in his arms and kissed your forehead. You hummed happily.

“So the library, really?” You laughed. And looked up at him from his lap.

“Not going to let this go, are you?”

“What about that date? I was sure that was where I got you.” You shook your head.

“No, that made me cry for about three hours,” his jaw dropped, making you laugh.

“That was the perfect first date. How did that make you cry?”

“I was struggling, ok? And the fact that it was fake…” You drifted off, too sad to continue. He kissed you, bringing you back to the present.

“It was real to me,” he murmured. You smiled and leaned up, connecting your lips again. The butterflies in your stomach still fluttering like it was the first time.

“I’m glad to hear that, because it was pretty real to me too.” He smiled down at you and you smiled up at him, feeling as if you two were back at Hogwarts and were just teenagers wandering the hallways arm in arm.

Hope you guys enjoyed! Let me know what you think! Thank you for reading!!!

[littlemessyjessi]

“Not My Bias”: Park Jimin Imagine: Plus Size Reader

Park Jimin Imagine Summary: Jimin is upset because he is not the chosen bias of his girlfriend but instead it's actually Namjoon.   A/N: Also, this is just an imagine, a oneshot if you will.  However, if you want to see more of the story, just let me know.   Extra: Plus Size.  Also, woman is older than the man by a few years. Pre-established relationship, Jimin is dating an Army, ft Platonic moments with Yoongi.   Warning: Fluff, Angst, mentions of suicide and issues with mental health, arguing, jealously... teeeeennnnnnsssssiiiooonn.   Anyway, yeah. ----

Flared nostrils and a deep breath.

'He's just having a day.  Let it go.  He's just in a mood.'

The thought swirled around in that head like smoke.

"Babe, you were all over him.  I don't know how you can think that's ok? If I had done that to someone you would've flipped out!" Jimin's voice sounded.

Regardless of the fact that Jimin was continuously all over people because he was very affectionate and naturally flirty.  

Also, regardless of the fact that he literally had millions of people ready to volunteer like Katniss for the Hunger Games at the drop of a hat.

Regardless of the fact that it was very much clear as to how much he was loved and adored by his partner.

Still.

'Don't snap.  Don't lash out.  Just let it go.'

The thought swirled less like smoke and more like the unstable circle of terror that was the beginnings of a hurricane.

"I mean, fuck, you might as well just be with him.  You were practically eye fucking him right in front of me."

Stone cold.

Every thought brewing in that mind was screaming to let it go, to talk to him calmly, to just fix it.

But that's not what happened.

Because even though Jimin was clearly feeling insecure and it had turned into jealously... you had feelings too.

You slowly turned to look at him.

Jimin's gaze was hard as he looked back.

He had that about him where one second he could be cute and adorable and the next he could be very intimidating.

However, his duality was no match for yours in that moment.

"Jimin, you've got about three seconds to apologize." you said evenly.

"Apologize?" He scoffed.  "For what? Apologize for calling the bullshit when I see my girlfriend trying to fuck one of my best friends right in front of me?"

That was it.

You had a long fuse on a big bomb and right now... you weren't just a stick of dynamite.

You were a nuclear bomb.

You ran your tongue over your teeth trying in vain to calm down.

"First of all, fuck you." you snapped and his brows lifted on his forehead.  "Yeah I said it.  Don't you ever insinuate that I am anything less to faithful to you.  God dammit, Jimin.  I didn't want to have a fucking fight with you but since you seem so hell bent on it, let's go.  It's time for war, mother fucker."

His gaze intensified at your response, "Don't you talk to me like -"

"Me?!" you snapped. "You want to talk about me? You're the one who stood right there, basically called me a whore and accused me of fucking your friend! Who by the way, you owe a god damn apology to! He didn't do anything to you and you've been a dick the whole day!"

It was the wrong thing to say and you knew it.

Bringing up Namjoon during a fight, especially considering the context was the worse thing you could've done.

It further ignited his anger and his jealously all but consumed him.

But you didn't care.

He may have started the fire but you brought the gasoline.

"That's just great, Y/N.  Wonderful.   Exactly the way to convince your boyfriend that you're not fucking someone else.  Defending them in the middle of an argument."

Your screaming had clearly drawn attention and the door opened to reveal Jin's concerned face.

He said something but the two of you were too far gone in trying to outscream each other to hear him.

"That you started!" you snapped at Jimin.

"I was trying to talk to you!"

"You were accusing me!"

"Because it was obvious!"

You were shaking when Yoongi's head popped in beside Jin's but you paid them no mind even when Hobi appeared in the doorway.

"Guys, come on." Hobi said trying to calm you both down.  "Don't do this."

"Come on. Let's go get some food and chill out." Jin offered, knowing very well how Jimin's temper could be and also how he could say some horrible things when he really didn't mean them.

He had a sinking feeling that they'd already been said though and there wasn't much that could be done.

"What was so obvious to you, Jimin? Hm? I am a fan.  You know this? I was an Army before I ever met you.  This was abundantly clear to you from the beginning.  Did you really think that there would never be moments when I wouldn't be starstruck occasionally?" you seethed. "Because I'm sorry I'm not perfect Park fucking Jimin! I'm human!"

His jaw tightened and he narrowed his eyes at you.

"That's not what this is about." he said.

"Yeah, the fuck, it is." you snapped.  "Listen, I'm about to make myself abundantly clear about something.  You don't fucking know me as well as you seem to think you do."

"Clearly." he responded and you had to fight the urge not to strangle him.

Yoongi almost rolled his eyes at Jimin and his fucking mouth.

The rest of the members had joined the chaos at this point and you... you just no longer cared.

You were ready to go to war.

Fuck it all.

You drew a deep breath in through your nose, staring at the carpet before lifting your eyes up to Jimin's again.

"You seem to think that you have me completely figured out and you know everything about me.  But you don't know shit, Jimin.  Just because we've been dating for three months does not mean that you suddenly know every thought in my head.  But you're about to find some shit out about me right now."

"You're right. I don't know wh-"

"Shut the fuck up." you said coldly.  "You want to know so god damn badly why Namjoon is my bias?  Fine, I'll tell you and you can either deal with it or you can continue to be a spoiled, selfish little brat.  I don't really care anymore."

He would've fought you for calling him that but internally something stopped him.

"I was never into this type of music.  It wasn't my thing.  I listened to metal and classic rock.  That was what I liked.   So BTS was never really in my statosphere.  But a few years ago, I was at my lowest. My husband had cheated on me leading me to file for an immediate divorce.  I had just lost our baby and I was wrecked.   I didn't want to do it anymore.  So let me paint you a picture here, Jimin.  I was standing in my childhood bedroom because I couldn't bare to be in that house where he fucked his secretary.   I'm standing there in front of my little vanity from when I was a kid and I had my grandpa's pistol loaded, the barrel in my mouth.  My finger was on the trigger and I started to press down."

Jimin, all with everyone else, had gone completely pale.

"And then suddenly my cousin's stereo starts thudding from the other side of the wall.  And it's "Voice" from Joon's first mixtape and I stopped.  Because for the first time in a long time, I felt like someone understood what I was going through.   I put the gun down and I saw there on the floor with my ear pressed against the wall listening to that song.  I cried until I couldn't breathe because no one had ever put my feelings into words like that before.  That song.  Those lyrics.  They saved me.   I put the gun away as if it had burned me,  I cried because I had been so close to ending it all over someone else who wasn't worth it.  I went home that night, researched the lyrics and figured out who wrote them and then I began listening to anything and everything that Namjoon had a hand in creating.  Because it was those words that kicked me back off the ledge."

Jimin was completely still at this point.

No movement.

No sound.

No nothing.

You were staring straight into his soul in that moment.

"So you'll have to excuse me if ever so often I get a little starstruck with the person who literally wrote the wrong that kept me from killing myself." you said lowly.

You finally looked around to see the rest of the members there, skin heating with embarassment that they'd just watched you and Jimin verbally rip each other's throats out and then hear your suicide attempt story.

You looked at Jimin once more before you shook your head and pushed your way through the members.

Several tried to comfort you but you didn't want to hear it.  

You just wanted out.

And that was exactly what you did, shoving through the door and disappearing from sight.

Immediately, upon the slam of the door, Jimin erupted into tears, crashing to the ground.

He hadn't known any of that.

Taehyung rushed to his side, pulling him into his arms and trying to calm him down enough to function.

Yoongi pursed his lips before going after you.

He knew what it was like to pick at old scars like that and how fresh those old wounds could still be.

He caught up to you rather easily, insisting that you let him take you out to eat.

You fought him on it but he did something that he rarely ever did.

He pulled out his super power on you and used his cuteness.

And you couldn't resist the lil meow meow so you caved... just like he knew you would.

You didn't mind it as much as you thought you would.

Yoongi didn't push you and instead the two of just enjoyed a meal together.

You fought him over the check but he already slipped the waitress his card before you could even get a word in edgewise.

Then he took you to a local dog park, watching puppies chase their own tails because he knew it was impossible to watch dogs smack into each other and not smile.

He didn't force you to talk or to address what had just happened.

But what he did do was stay with you, offer you kindness, made sure you ate and did something that made you smile.

He reached out to place his hand on yours and gave it a squeeze.

"I won't pretend that I know what you've been through.  I'm not that arrogant and I'm not you.  But I do understand what it's like to get to a point where you don't want to do it anymore." he said as the two of you focused on a pomeranian with an attitude problem who reminded you both of Yeontan.

"You can talk to me.  Anytime." he said.  "I know I don't usually say alot but I'll listen. I promise."

"Thanks, Yoongi.  I'm fine.  I promise.  I'm alot better now.  I'm not the person I used to be.   Things are different.  Jimin just really hit a nerve with what he was saying and I snapped." you explained.

He nodded with a sigh.

"Jimin is someone who is full of emotion.  He's passionate.  That sometimes means that he loses his temper when he's scared.  He loves you and he's more insecure about losing you than he lets on.   He didn't express that in the right way at all.  I won't defend him on that.  I'm just saying, don't give up just because you two had a fight.  A hell of one, mind you.  Do you realize that you're terrifying when you're angry?"

You finally broke into a laugh at his words.

"I thought Jimin was the scary one." you commented, knowing very well that every single one of them collectively thought Jimin was terrifying when he was really angry.

"Shit, he's a punk compared to you." Yoongi chuckled. "You looked like an absolute demon.  If I hadn't seen it for myself, I'd have never believed sweet Y/N looked like she was forged in the fires of hell."

You nearly snorted at his response before finally looking over at him.

"Thanks, Yoongi.  Really.  You made me feel a lot better." you admitted. "I'm glad you came after me.  This was much better than how I likely would've handled it."

"How would you have handled it?" he questioned.

"Probably something self sabotaging and toxic as hell." you shrugged. "Or maybe I just would've cried when I cooled off.  Or took off.  I've been known to jump in the car and just keep driving when I'm angry.  It's literally me running from my problems but for the lazy because fuck that.  I'm not running from anybody.  Zombies can just eat this ass."

He shook with laughter.

It was one of the reasons he liked you a lot and he thought you were perfect for Jimin.

You were naturally funny and had a great wit about you... and you were tough.  

You needed to be tough if you were going to date someone who worked in the business they did.

You don't fall in love with the idol, you fall for the person.... but that person still has a job and to be their partner is really hard.

It wasn't for the weak of heart.

The two of you sat there for a while.

You'd turned your phone off almost instantly as soon as you cleared the building, not even entertaining the thought of dealing with any questions.

You assumed that Yoongi had likely told someone he was with you since he'd been with you for hours and no one was calling him.

You took in his profile as he watched a squirrel run up a tree.

You could practically see him thinking.

"Just spit it out." you sighed and his lips quirked just a little before looking at you.

"What makes you think I have something to say?" he questioned.

"Because, unfortunately, we are too much alike in some ways." you said.  

He chuckled, "All I'm going to say is, cut Jimin some slack.   He's crazy about you.   Anyone can see that.   And also, give him a chance to digest everything you just told him today.  That was a lot.   You know that better than anyone."

"I didn't mean to tell him like that." you shrugged. "I didn't mean to tell him that at all."

"Why not?" Yoongi asked, very seriously.  "You love Jimin right?"

"Yeah, of course." you said.

"And you trust him?" he said.

"Yeaaahhh." you said.

"Then how come you haven't talked to him about that before?" he asked.

"Because we've only been together for three months, Yoongi and we haven't spent a ton of time with one another in those three months. You don't just blurt your past suicide attempts out to people like that." you all but snapped.

You were getting defensive and he knew it.

But Yoongi also knew that you were only being like that because he'd hit a nerve.

He knew because he was like that at times.

"You were friends before you got together." he pointed out. "I know you're an Army. I get it.  But you and Jimin clicked at that fan event that day.  Don't get me wrongs.  He's a hopeless flirt but Jimin has never willingly forked over his phone number like that.   He didn't even know your name and he was hooked."

You ground your teeth because you knew he was right.

"All I'm saying is, give him a chance.  He's jealous of Joon.  He can't help it.  A part of him wants to be your bias because he's your boyfriend.  I can get that." Yoongi shrugged.

"It's not like Joon is my bias is a romantic way, Yoongi." you sighed.  "I literally just -"

"I know." Yoongi cut you off.  "I know.  I get it.  Trust me.  We are all painfully aware of that situation now."

You chewed on your lip, vulnerable at having your business out there like that.

"Hey." he said reaching for your hand.  "I didn't meant that to come off the way it did.  I'm glad we know.  I wish you hadn't felt like you were so backed into the corner that you had to come out with it like that.  But still, it's good to know that about you.   I think it'll bring us closer as a group."

You just nodded.

He sighed, "Listen, I'm gonna tell you something that I think we'll help.   Men are rather simple in a lot of ways.  Some not so much but others- incredibly so."

You lifted a brow at him.

"Ok?"

"Explain that Joon's work inspires you and it helped you through a lot." he said.

"I literally just-"

"No, stop and listen to me." he cut you off.  "Explain that you admire Namjoon and his work. You love his writing.   This is also true for me or Hobi right?  You and I have talked for hours about some of my stuff and I know you and Hobi sat there and dissected Hope World for like three days.   You admire the work, the lyrics, the content, right?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"I know that it's a little different with Joon because his song was the first one you'd heard and it was a rather traumatic time.  So there's somewhat of an emotional attachment there.  And honestly, I think that's what Jimin is so scared of." he said.

"Scared of what?  It's music and yeah, I love the way Joon writes and yeah it was a crazy time but I'm in love with Jimin." you argued.

"Jimin is scared that Namjoon could take you away from him." Yoongi said directly.  

"What?" you gasped. "But I love Jimin."

"I know that." Yoongi said.  "Everyone knows that. But he also knows how much you obsess over anything Joon writes."

"It's good music." you said.

Yoongi nodded, "Yeah, it is.  But Jimin has likely got it in his head that you could easily just run off with Joon and have this philosophical conversations about poetry and lyrics.  I'd be willing to be money on it that he's insecure because you didn't start out loving BTS, you started out loving RM.   And that scares him."

"It was never about loving RM or BTS." you countered. "I needed those lyrics.  I liked RM as a musician.  I liked BTS as a group.  But I fell in love with Jimin.  And I'll tell you another god damn thing, I never fucking meant to either! I didn't want to love anyone after that shit happened!"

Your temper was flaring, which truthfully was dangerous, as Yoongi could match you in it.

But he also realized you were just very sensitive right now and not actually angry so he just watched you calmly.

"I didn't want to fall in love with anyone.  Ever again, Yoongi.  I was terrified.  I'm still terrified.  But I met Jimin and he fucking smiled at me and I crumbled.  It wasn't really about me falling in love with him.  I jumped head first into the darkness because even though it scared me shitless, I didn't care.  He's worth it.  No matter what."

You didn't realize that you'd gotten to your feet until Yoongi was smiling at you and he gently nodded over your shoulder.

You turned around and there he was.  

Of course.

Jimin.

With his expressive dark eyes and his dreamy lips.

As cliche as it is, it was almost as if time stopped.

There was nothing else but Jimin and you.

It became a race to get to one another and as soon as you got within arms reach of each other, your kisses were feverent.

"I'm sorry's" and "No I'm sorry" and "You didn't do anything wrong"  "I was just jealous" "No, no, no"

They all clanged together in a jumbled mess of mutterings slurred with kisses.

"Joon is not my bias, Jimin." you breathed.

"Baby, it's fine.  It's not a big deal.  I just got a little -"

"No, listen." you breathed.  "He's not.  I admire him.  I admire his work.  But he's not my bias.  I don't have a bias."

Jimin pulled back to look at you, "What?"

"I don't have a bias." you clarified.  "I don't pick favorites."

"Uh..." he said.

"I don't have a bias." you repeated. "But I do have something else.  Something super special."

"What's that?" he asked, brows furrowed.

"A keeper." you said.

"A keeper?" he asked.

"Yep, the keeper of my heart.  Only one person can be that and that's you."

It was cheesy.

Ridiculously so.

But Jimin melted for you and he squeezed your soft body to his so tightly that you could barely breathe.

And all the while, Min Yoongi sat on that park bench, watching the scene from the corner of his eye, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Smug grin ever permanent on his impish features.

"Lil Meow Meow strikes again..." he whispered to himself.

------

—-

Hey loves!

I hope you enjoyed and I’d love to hear your thoughts!

If you’re interested in any of my other BTS works you can find the masterlist HERE

Love,

Mama Kennysaurus

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——- Also, just a reminder that I am open for commissions! Additionally, the only tag list I have is my permanent tag list but if you ever want to be added all you have to do is just go to the ask box and request to be added! It’s that simple and you’re in! I love you all!

[endeaavorr]

PAPA!ENJI AU CHARACTER BREAKDOWN

hello ! this is some new content idea that i thought would help everyone understand their dynamic better, and if this turns out well i’d turn this into an event too, i hope you enjoy. with love, moon. cw : mentions of death, violence, suicide, slight yandere tendencies.

“if you (have to) choose between the fate of your partner or the fate of the world, what will you choose ?”

y/n’s answer : them

y/n is very selfish when it comes to her relationship with enji. there’s something with the way she thinks, that’s just different and not even i, her creator can fathom or tell if it’s good or not. she’s so emotionally intelligent it boosts her and even enji’s publicity. but at the same time, to her nothing matters other than enji and her brothers. she would gladly knock on devil’s door and put a bargain on things no one wants to know what is just to get her way.

enji’s answer : the world

this is pretty obvious. enji is officially japan’s number one hero, with a successful agency to lead aside from it. it naturally makes him a leader that will have no choice but to put others first, it’s his responsibility, it’s his fate.

“will you sacrifice yourself for the other person ?”

y/n’s answer : will

after all the todoroki discourse, y/n considers enji her life and death. she vowed to herself to do everything in her power and beyond to make sure enji can be happy with her. to her, death is painless. it is life that brings misery.

enji’s answer : will

this is self explanatory. even if their relationship remained platonic, enji’s parental love would still let him give up his life for her.

“can you kill your partner if they become a monster ?”

y/n’s answer : can not

as i stated previously, y/n is selfish when it comes to enji. she would rather sit back and watch the world gets consumed by hellfire if it means she can be with enji.

enji’s answer : can

he has his responsibilities as a hero, and sacrificing personal matters is at the top of the list. he knew what it’s like to lose a child, so he can have a better judgement of what he would do. it’d crush him though. he’d be on distraught for a long time.

“will you take revenge if your partner is killed ?”

y/n’s answer : will

enji is a hard man to kill, if he somehow got killed it would be because he was distracted like when dabi revealed himself as touya, or it would be because reinforcement came late. the latter would be worse though, there’s no limit to how far she would go.

enji’s answer : will

unlike y/n’s egocentric temper, enji wouldn’t blame it on reinforcement or other survivors. he’d use all his connections and power as the number one to find whoever’s responsible. i haven’t thought this enough but it’s possible that the grief gets too much for enji to handle, it completely dulls his hero tendencies. he not only will let your killer die a slow and painful death, but also their kid too. an eye for an eye.

“will you follow your partner to death ?”

y/n’s answer : will

there are two scenarios where i thought about this possibility may occur. scenario one would be if enji’s sacrificing himself to save everyone like fighting a villain or gets trapped etc, if that’s the case she’ll stay and let life play whatever joke it has on them, as long as she has him, it doesn’t matter. scenario two would be if enji died without her like for example in a hospital or a battleground where she’s not present, if that’s the case she wouldn’t straight up kill herself, she’ll see what happens after like if it was accidental or planned or anything, but im not disclosing anything though, she can be unpredictable when it comes to enji.

enji’s answer : will not

if the conditions are like as i stated with y/n, on scenario one enji would sacrifice himself with y/n so ‘she at least won’t be alone in her last moments’. meanwhile on scenario two, he’s gonna prompt for revenge, and maybe find a way to bring her back.

“possibility of marriage ?”

y/n’s answer : there is not

enji’s answer : there is not

enji is legally still married to rei in this au. even if their marriage wasn’t built on love and it’s practically ended, a divorce will stain his and his family’s name. they had a talk about this about two years after both of them became a thing, and there’s a mutual agreement on this matter. the todoroki legacy that has been built is way too valuable to taint. enji feels bad though, y/n has sacrificed way too much, even more than rei did. so enji did give her a promise ring, making it clear that he’s not messing with her feelings or taking her for granted. he wears that ring in place of his first one that he got with rei. on a more simple answer, i’m sure incest marriage is illegal. (too bad)

“at the end of the world will you be with your partner ?”

y/n’s answer : will

enji’s answer : will

there’s no need to elaborate further on y/n’s answer. however enji’s a bit tricky since he should be trying to save people, right ? but no. he’s still a person with his own desires before he is a hero. it’s not like the world ever sacrificed its life for him anyways. enji would stop by rei’s place where natsuo and shoto lives to give a last apology, then go somewhere nice with y/n to watch the skies darken for the last time.

“will you tell lies to your partner ?”

y/n’s answer : will

enji’s answer : will

both of them are similar in this. i guess this is where the todoroki genes take place. she would only do harmless lies like birthday surprises and when she’s hiding her struggles or something because really there’s nothing for her to lie about, while enji would lie to protect her from the harsh knowledge of the grown up’s world. he thinks you’re still too innocent for the world, and he’d like to keep it that way.

“your partner has been killed to end their hellish suffering, will you revive them ?”

y/n’s answer : will

by now, it’s clearing up that she has some yandere tendencies. it’s not to the extent that she beheads any woman breathing the same air as enji, but it’s enough to be delusional at times. in this case, if enji was killed then she’d go into a craze frenzy. it’s even worse because people will come up to her and say shit like “he’s happy now.” she’d think “he was happy with me too” and mutter it lots of times. kinda scary to the people around her, and if given the chance to revive him, she’d take it in a heartbeat. she’s sure she can make him happy.

enji’s answer : will not

well, how do i say it. enji do loves her, but the years difference in life experience between him and y/n makes all the difference. he thinks rationally, like a normal person do. he’s not that confident in making y/n happy in the first place either, it’s not like she was free from his shitty jerk behaviour back then, if not she even sometimes took the hit for his brothers too. he’s not sure if he ever really made you happy despite trying his best. thus if given such situation, his insecure ass would consider it best if he lets what has happened, happened.

“can you live your position and responsibility for your partner ?”

y/n’s answer : can

y/n’s still quite young, only a few years in her hero career. she doesn’t really have a lot to stake on to be frank. especially with her pesonality, it won’t be a hard choice. hell if enji asks her to be a homemaker she’d be delighted to resign.

enji’s answer : can not

he has too much responsibility, having achieved that much in such a young age means he has a lot in stake. it’s unprofessional too, it irks him to be anything other than that.

“what are the last words you will say to your partner before you part ways forever ?”

y/n’s answer : i will care for you always, that was my part of the deal.

enji’s answer : i’m sorry.

in my au, i only consider this possible to happen if rei wanted to get back together and enji had no choice but to agree. it would be a long shot though, it’s canon in my au that y/n despises her mother, she’d be on her neck the moment she got off the hospital, keeping her away from enji as much as possible. but if this scenario did somehow happen, i think y/n would give in. he’d do anything for enji at the end of the day. (as long as they still fuck regularly tho)

“would they want to meet each other again if they were reborn ?”

y/n’s answer : i want to

enji’s answer : i want to

maybe this time, he won’t be so insecure and flawed. maybe this time, she would fight harder for him.

“finally, one word to describe their relationship ?”

moon’s answer : romantic.

maybe they were doomed from the very start, but they loved each other with all they had. maybe it was wrong, and ugly at times, but still they were two romantics yearning for each other.

this is the end of the character breakdown, thank you so much for making it this far and enjoying my papa!enji au. i appreciate all of you so much.

[leah-halliwell92]

Hospitals and Injuries

Summary: Hank’s ex show’s up at the hospital he’s in after getting hurt on the job. Problem is, neither him nor Cole want her there and they sure don’t want mistakes to be made especially since Hank, and Cole, have an important person they have a question for.

Gavin stayed with Cole while Richard and Connor went to get them all some food. He’d stepped out to use the restroom only to come back and find a crying brown haired woman standing in the room. Cole looked like he was seeing red he was so angry. 

The closer he got Gavin heard her speaking to him.

“Baby it’s me...it’s mommy,” she said tearfully.

Gavin stopped in his tracks eyes wide. So this is Carol Jones formerly Anderson, this is the bitch the up and left after the accident. What in the seven circles of hell could she want now?

“What the hell are you doing here Carol?” A clearly tired and hurting Hank Anderson asked his ex.

“I heard you were shot,” she said plainly. 

Cole scoffed at that.

“You do not scoff at me young man,” she said angrily.

Cole scoffed again and wheeled himself out of the room leaving Carol to a very angry Hank.

Gavin had seen Hank pissed off but never had he seen the older man so angry he could kill someone, or looked like it at least. His brow was set in a frown, nostrils flaring as he listened to her half assed excuses and apologies. Gavin was so focused on Hank that he did not see Connor at the door. 

“If you are as sincere as you wish us to believe you are you’d not abandoned your family, you’d not abandoned your son,” Connor said brown eyes flashing in anger lips curled in a snarl, “You’d have stayed and loved your son regardless fo your relationship with Hank. Instead you left when things got hard, what sort of mother does that?”

Carol stared at Connor looking at him from top to bottom before daring to look affronted.

Hank groaned but lay back to watch Connor work a satisfied and proud half grin on his face. 

“You think its so easy don’t you?” She began her voice sounding shriller the louder she got, “To–”

“To what? Get help? Go to marriage counseling? Feeling like you’d lost something vital and feeling hopeless about it?” Connor said his voice over shadowing hers.

Gavin saw Richard’s stiff posture, where he stood with Cole at his side, and realized his lover and Connor had gone through some serious shit with their parent, with Amanda at least.

“What would you know about it!?” Carol asked looking triumphant when Connor stayed quiet. 

But Gavin knew that look and knew this woman was going to get the tongue lashing of her life.

“Have you ever been abandoned or left behind in exchange for something else? Something that is for some reason more important than you? Have you ever been replaced by a loved one while you still loved them in return?” Connor began calmly.

The calm demeanor threw her off but he continued before she could even answer. 

“Has this person or people done so repeatedly without remorse? Making you feel like a burden and nuisance for just being in the same room as them? That you are their blood and they just don't care?”

Gavin saw Cole take Richard’s hand and noticed the taller man trying not to cry his grey eyes shining and chin set to try and keep it from trembling.

“You tossed aside your family because you were looking for an out, because it wasn’t part of your grand plan,” he said making his way to Hank’s side shoulders set, measured stride and hands behind his back, “And now you have the gall to come here, three years after the fact and hope you can pick up where you left off?”

Gavin was surprised to see Cole let Richard’s hand go and wheel himself back in. 

“I think you need to leave,” the boy said fat tears running down his face, voice thick with tears, “We don’t need you.”

Carol looked like she’d been struck. She never expected her son to say such a thing to her.

“You should never have come back Carol,” Hank says softly, blue eyes cold as he looked at his ex. 

Gavin saw a minute shift in Connor’s eyes. Gavin nearly scoffed in disbelief, he’d never seen such united force as Hank and Connor. He’d gotten so used to them being a unit, as strong together as they are apart that he didn’t see how her coming in unannounced would do to the younger man. 

The woman looked between the father and son eyes growing wide as she saw Cole wheel himself to Connor and grab the edge of his grey work jacket. 

“You and him,” she gasped in shock.

“Don't act all surprised,” Hank said with a laugh, “You knew I was bi before we even married. Not that its any of your business who I'm with...I think you’ve over stayed your welcome.”

“You can’t do this! He’s my son!” She cried.

“Since when? You signed away your rights to him in the divorce remember?” Hank said his voice seeming to make the room shake as he thundered, “You decided to wash your hands of us when you saw how much work needed to be done. On us, Cole and his needs and all of the curve balls life would throw at us. He’s more Connor’s son than he is yours and he didn’t even birth him.”

Gavin saw Richard enter the room.

“You called for security?” He said voice cold as ice grey eyes flashing.

Hank took the initiative, “Yes.”

But before Richard could do anything Carol said, “No need for that, I’ll go on my own.”

She made to leave and turned to Cole, “I’ll always love you Cole.”

“Then you’d never have left,” he replied his grip getting tighter on Connor’s jacket fearing she’d tear him away from his family. 

She left soon after that tail between her legs. 

Richard approached Cole and wheeled the boy out saying, “We’ll go get get some air.”

Gavin followed after Richard leaving the couple in the room alone to talk things out. He knew Richard was going to need a day or two off from work after what they all just heard. 

Connor’s posture remained stiff as he focused on his breathing. He felt Hank’s gaze on him as he struggled to adjust himself in his sitting position. Connor seemed to snap out of it enough help Hank get comfortable and made to leave when Hank’s next words stopped him in his tracks.

“You know I love you right?” 

Connor turned to look at Hank and gave a half hearted nod. He does indeed know but that didn’t mean it wasn’t nice to hear it every once in a while. The way he’d come into Cole and Hank’s lives had not been ideal, the evolution of the relationships had given him something he never thought he’d have. The younger man had suspected Hank reciprocated his feelings, they each had done their fare share of hinting at it for the past year only saying the words a handful of times.

Despite this Connor felt that given a second chance to have his old life back, Hank wouldn’t hesitate in getting back together with his ex if only for Cole to have his mother.

“Come’ere Con,” Hank said softly a tired grin on his aged face.

Connor complied quietly and made his way back to Hank’s side.

“I know that look,” the older man said pulling a hand from behind Connor’s back, with his good arm,  to kiss the back of, “Did you really think I’d take her back?”

“She’s Cole’s mother,” Connor said with a small noncommittal shrug. 

“Yes, a mother that gave up her son the moment things got hard,” Hank grunted in distaste before looking at Connor in pure adoration and saying, “You’ve been there from what feels like the very beginning. You’ve been my partner for three years. you’ve been there from the moment he was taken into therapy and have pretty much never left his side or mine since.”

Connor’s chin trembled as Hank ran his thumb over the back of his hand. 

“You’ve been my partner, my friend and my lover for the past two years Connor. I can’t begrudge the rather unsettling feelings that popped up from having Carol reappear out of nowhere. We will be talking about that going back to her thing when I get out of here,” Hank said gently but sternly, “For now though I’ll settle for asking something important.”

Connor looked at Hank in shock, “What?”

Hank gave Connor a loving grin and said, “Cole wanted to be here to help but kid needs a breather after being caught off guard like that.”

“You getting emotional in your old age Hank?” Connor said teasingly as happy tears fell. 

Hank huffed and thumped Connor in the stomach. 

“Yea yea laugh it up,” the older man grumbled, “You gonna let me ask my question now?”

Connor laughed and nodded.

“Will you marry me?” Hank said straight and to the point, “If need be I will ask again this time with the ring and kid there to also ask his own question–”

Connor leaned in and kissed him effectively shutting Hank up.

“Does that answer your question?” Connor said lovingly.

Hank gave him a half grin and pulled him back in for another kiss. 

Both men lavished in their quiet moment enjoying feeling that their union was finally going to be made official.

Poor Connor would effectively, and probably, be in need of some CPR, much to Gavin’s delight, when Cole asked him to officially be his dad. But that is a story for another time. 

[miridiums-writing]

Punishment

Tom riddle x reader chapter 3

Story masterlist

Summary : Tom’s punishment was to live a muggle life, his past and life story chosen by the ministry of magic to ensure he learned. Reader was chosen to live as his partner to ensure nothing goes wrong

Warnings : none really, just a bit of Tom being bullied again

Tag list : @dearseungie @the-gazette-of-tea @girl-between-worlds @starlight-boo @bornbeautiful123

Ryan tapped his fork against his glass, raising it towards everyone and gathering everyone attention, except for the young boy next to Tom, who was busy fiddling with Tom’s jacket sleeve. Tom looked bored, watching the boy play with his jacket, making sure he didn’t ruin it. Y/n found it rather cute, but they didn’t dare speak up about remembering mentioning it earlier when the boy gave Tom a rabbit teddy and wanted him to play house with him. Tom just made the rabbit hop around until it ‘died’. Which made the small boy get frustrated and said he was going to tell on tom if he didn’t play nicely. Tom had sighed and tried to ‘play nicely’. In reaction Y/n had said he should be a babysitter making Tom kick them under the table.

“Thank you for all gathering and attending my dinner party, as you all know the library is going to be 100 years old today so I thought it would be appropriate for us all come together and unite, please enjoy the food and the party” With that he sat back down again, turning to a woman who looked slightly underweight, her thin sickly figure leaning rather uncomfortably in her chair, her face looking like she had just ate a rather sour lemon. It was rather comedic seeing the large man talking to a woman who looked the complete opposite to him, and clearly wanted to leave. Tom was still preoccupied trying to keep the kid from getting bored, his parental figure had disappeared off somewhere, leaving Tom to look after him. Though weirdly enough Tom wasn’t complaining, over the last twenty minutes they had bonded a little.

Tom chased his hand across the table towards the boy, pretending his hand was a spider as the boy smacked his hand down of Tom’s hand to kill it, rinse and repeat. Tom just hoped the boys family would come around soon, if he was going to be his babysitter, it would be nice to have something in return. “Can I sit in your lap?” The boy said, tugging on Tom’s arm. Tom stared at the body shocked for a moment before Y/n nudged his arm. He sighed to himself, picking the boy up carefully and placing him on his lap, Tom allowed him to continue playing around with his fingers as he turned to Y/n hoping for something better.

“Talk to me” Tom said, staring at Y/n as they continued to watch Ryan and the woman. Y/n turned to him, slightly surprised at his request, but not minding obliging. “You see the couple over there, the ones holding hands but looking completely away from each other” Tom followed Y/n’s gaze to a man and a woman holding hands but looking rather uncomfortable around each other, like they had just met, or something had gone wrong. The woman was preoccupied staring at the floor, maybe hoping it would swallow her up, while the man stared at the ceiling, swirling a drink in his free hand. “Yeah, what about them”

“They’ve both been cheating on each other, but due to the ladies father they are unable to break up for publicity sake, so in public they try to act like a couple, while in secret they both knowingly cheat on the other, living separate lives within their lives in the hopes that one day soon her father will die and they will be able to stop this publicity stunt”

“why not just break up now, wouldn’t that be easier”

“well they could, but the woman’s father is filthy rich, and they need his income of money to supply each of their families they have created outside their marriage, they both can’t get out until he dies, so they are waiting till then”

“Why not just kill the dad, make life easier”

“There’s no guarantee they would get away with it without being arrested, neither would want to risk something like that, now, pick someone in the room and ill tell you a dirty secret about them”

“ooooh, I like this game, ok, her” Tom nodded his head over to an old lady sat laughing and smiling at a baby in a stroller next to her.

“good choice, ok, she murdered her husband” Tom turned to look at Y/n rather shocked, the woman’s calm and motherly air definitely didn’t scream a killer. “You have me intrigued, why did she kill him”

“Simple, when she was young there was no way to divorce people, her husband was abusive, and she decided she deserved better. She made sure everything was ready and got away with it. A lot of women in the area go to her when they feel alone, she has an aura that women find calming and safe.” Tom nodded along while Y/n spoke, watching the old lady from the corner of his eye. “Anyone else you want to know about?” Just then Ryan started making his way around the room headed straight towards Tom and Y/n. Tom turns to look at me panicking slightly. Though Y/n looks pointedly down at the boy in his lap. Bingo.

Tom slightly loudly asks if the boy needs the bathroom, the boy preoccupied with the toy in his hands, he nods. Tom sighs lightly and goes to take him to the bathroom, while Ryan decided to talk to Y/n while he was gone. The man gives Y/n a large grin as he sits in the seat Tom had sat in, turning to Y/n ready to converse. His presence gave Y/n an off feeling, and now realized why Tom hated him so much, he gave them a sick feeling and it made her want to run. “Enjoying the dinner then?” Y/n stared at the man for a second before silently nodding at his question not really wanting to talk to him.

Meanwhile Tom stood in the hallway, the boy stood at his side staring at him in disbelief. “That was the only reason you wanted to leave? Weak” Tom stared angrily down at the boy who had been roasting him for half the evening now and didn’t show any sign of stopping the onslaught towards Tom. “Its not like that, I don’t like the feeling he gives off”

“So, you left him alone with your partner knowing full well has a weird guy, what a great boyfriend you make”

“Hey, I’m an amazing boyfriend, I make them pancakes for breakfast every morning”

“Uhuh, so does my mummy, that isn’t anything special” Tom was getting more agitated at the boy by the second, how was he so easily able to get under Tom’s skin?

“Fine then, ill go swoop in and save them like an amazing boyfriend would”

“See you in a few seconds when you come back scared” Tom ground his teeth together at the boys last comment before stalking over to where Y/n and Ryan were sat. he was trying to figure out how he should play this before he just casually threw his arm over Y/n shoulders and stared at Ryan. Ryan smiled at Tom, glad that he had finally arrived. “Tom, just the man I wanted to see”

“Whatever for?”

“Oh, just to tell you that due to your diligence last week on noticing that screw loose on the shelves we were able to fix the problem and stop a lot of property damage, so I was going to give you a bonus this month” Tom sighed quietly in Y/n’s ear, kicking himself for being scared for no reason.

“Thankyou that is really appreciated” And with that, Ryan stood up to walk back over to his chair. Y/n started to giggle to themselves trying desperately to hold it back so as not to invoke the wrath of Tom, but Tom was too tired now, the day of work had been tiring enough, not to add on the panic Ryan always ensues, how much energy it takes up cleaning up after Debbie’s kids, plus the kid from earlier, who he still hadn’t figured out who he belonged to. He slumped back down into his chair, ready to go home and go to sleep.

“If you’re really that tired just put your head on my shoulder” Tom turned to look at them with a look that screamed ‘bitch what?’ “Earlier you came in to help me thinking I was in trouble, least I can do is return the favour.” Tom considered the offer before thinking ‘what the hell if he looks like he’s asleep people will leave him alone’. So, he gently places his head on Y/n’s shoulder, unsure quite what to do until they brought this head down so the full weight of his head was on them. It was surprisingly comfortable for the both of them, and as the night drew to a close both of them felt that a bond, no matter how small had managed to form. If they were stuck here together, they were going get out that way.

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Irreverent Pt. 46 - Salve

Title: Irreverent Pt. 46 - Salve Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: M Words: ~10K

A/N: Flashback Chapter set between Chapter 14: Superheroes and Chapter 15: Foyet. 

Irreverent Series Masterlist

The bar was thrumming with activity and the energy that accompanies people who've all had a long, hard day at work and would like to do nothing besides forget. The team had gotten back from a case in the evening, and with only Friday separating them and the weekend, had all decided to head out for a night of drinking.

You look around, your hands wrapped around a glass of scotch - Derek, Penelope, and Emily were dancing in the makeshift dancing area, JJ was playing darts with some guys, Spencer was cheating people out of their money at a game of pool, and Rossi had long ago excused himself to go sit by some woman at the bar. You'd be dancing too, but the unsub had gotten the jump on you during the takedown and you'd been nursing a sprained ankle ever since. Hotch had stayed with you - whether it was simply to keep you company or because none of the other activities appealed to him, you're unsure. Likely the former - he was pretty good at darts too.

He's sitting across from you in the booth, a glass of scotch in his hand as well. He doesn't make a face when he drinks it, which you have to admire - it was such a man thing. You only drank liquor to get drunk and had been surprised with the drink by Rossi, who had insisted that you needed to drink something stronger than a glass of wine after the day you'd had. You take another hesitant sip from your glass, trying hard not to give away how little you like it. He could've ordered you a mixed drink - something sweet so you didn't taste just pure alcohol.

"What've you got going on this weekend?" you ask Hotch. The case had been miserable all around and you wanted to talk about anything but that.

He looks up at you, the faint hint of a smile on his face. "Haley and I worked it out so that I can have Jack the entire weekend. I'll have to think of something to keep him occupied."

You knew that Hotch would be content to do nothing as long as it was with Jack, but he liked to make the most of their time together and did his best to plan things out that Jack would like. "I saw a poster that said the Air and Space Museum has some special exhibit on this month. It looked interesting." You knew Jack would enjoy that - his latest toy was a rocketship that went everywhere with him.

"Saturday?" he asks, eyebrow quirked up in question.

"Make it 11, and you've got a deal," you tell him, with a small smile. "I am no longer entertaining plans at 9am."

He lets out a slight huff. "If you just went to bed at a normal hour it wouldn't be that hard to wake up in the morning."

This was an old argument with the two of you. Hotch insisted on always being the first in line to any ticketed event. He hated waiting - he'd start to fidget and get annoyed and keep leaving the line to walk to the front and see what was taking so long.

"Take it or leave it." You were sticking your ground. He could use the lie in too, he'd just never admit it.

"We'll pick you up," he says, bringing his glass to his mouth and taking another sip, eyes meeting yours from above the rim.

It was interesting how you and Hotch had settled into this routine of constantly doing things with Jack. You reckon he likes having another adult around when he's out with Jack - it definitely made things easier to keep a little kid entertained. You'd once mentioned to Emily that you were having dinner with him and Jack and she'd looked at you a little oddly, saying that she'd been on the team forever and had never once had dinner with her boss and his kid. You'd responded by telling her that she probably wouldn't enjoy it all too much - Emily liked kids just fine, but her and Hotch tend to get on one another's nerves a bit after a while. They were far too different even if they did work well together. Hotch would try and fail at limiting her to two glasses of wine with dinner and she'd annoy him by just putting the dishes straight into the dishwasher without caring how she did it.

"Someone sent this over for you." You turn to see the waitress place a drink at your table, and indicate towards a man in a wrinkled suit, seated at the bar, who waves at you.

You can feel your face turn into a grimace as the waitress looks at you expectantly. You avoid looking at Hotch across the way. You didn't need to see his reaction. "Would you mind telling him thanks, but, no thanks for me?" you ask her apologetically.

She nods understandingly, taking the drink back and walking towards the bar.

You turn to look at Hotch, completely exasperated. It was nice. It was a nice gesture - sending a girl a drink. Friendly. Yet, you're just a little at your wit's end lately when it comes to men. It all just feels superficial.

Hotch can read you pretty well by now, so he asks if you're alright.

You look at his concerned face. You know why - usually you don't mind this sort of thing. Hell, you pretty much encourage it with the way you act, flirting with nearly everyone simply because you can. It's like a sport to you.

"Are you asking as my boss or as my friend?" you ask him, eyes cast down towards your drink, following patterns in the wood of the table.

"Friend," he says, adjusting to lean in a bit more towards you.

Sighing, you shift a bit, dropping your leg from where you'd been keeping it elevated next to him. "Lately, I just feel like I can't get guys to see me. Like every guy I meet, they either want to date me or kill me," you tell him, referring to your job. "But beyond that, it's like I don't even matter."

Hotch nods understandingly at your frustration, his face a grimace at your explanation. He's unable to deny that that is very much the case when it comes to women quite often - especially in your line of work. You're all far too aware of the horrors of dating, being called in on numerous cases on dating gone wrong. "Aren't you still seeing that guy - Kensington?" he asks with a slight uptick of his jaw.

"Well, if you can call seeing someone six times over the course of about an equal number of months, then yes I suppose so," you scoff lightly. "Twice we got called in on cases halfway, once he got interrupted by a work emergency, and then most recently I accompanied him to an event at which most of the other dates were the kind that demand a retainer in exchange for services rendered," you say, alluding to the super model types you'd kept company at Cedric's business event a couple of weeks back. You could fit into his world quite easily, but you didn't want to. You'd left that behind for a reason.

Hotch chuckles slightly at that, amused at your tone and manner in which you referred to women who were essentially either escorts or sugar babies. You didn't really fit that mold - of that he was quite certain. For one, you definitely didn't need the money.

"Don't get me wrong, I actually do like him. We get one another and our background and upbringing is similar enough. He makes me laugh. However our schedules - both of ours - are highly unconducive to dating and in his line of business he needs a girlfriend who can leave everything at the drop of a hat to stand by his side."

"So unless you leave your job or he leaves his, it won't work out," Hotch finishes your thought for you, a resigned expression on his face in commiseration.

"Exactly. Which is a shame because he's actually one of the good ones. He's rich but not pompous, educated and intelligent without being condescending about it, and actually shows genuine interest in me and my job. Believe it or not, as basic as those things might seem, they are actually difficult to find all in one man."

He hums. "I can imagine," he says, taking another sip of his drink, a slightly amused expression on his face. You rarely talked to him about your dating life so he was actually very interested in this insight. He wonders briefly if there's any significance to you having listed the fact that Kensington was wealthy before any of his other qualities. From what he knows of you, he doubts you'd truly care if your partner had money or not. More than likely it merely helped establish a commonality, nothing more. However, from what he does know of the men you've dated recently, they all appear to be quite well off nonetheless.

"Anyways, all that is to say that I'm not exactly looking to entertain complete strangers in bars at the moment. I don't trust my luck."

"Probably for the best, anyways," Hotch comments, appraising the crowd at the bar. There really didn't appear to be anyone worth talking to - especially none of your caliber, per his judgement.

"What about you? How's the post divorce dating scene?" you question, feeling a little bolder than you usually might, since the two of you are already discussing the matter. Turnabout was fair play.

He's a little surprised at your forwardness. You tend to do your best to not meddle in his personal business, despite the amount of time you two spend together. He believes it's your way of maintaining some modicum of professionalism to your outings. Your conversations tend to revolve around cases, your classes from college, an article in the newspaper, or the ever present game the two of you like to play of profiling complete strangers walking by. He says its to hone your skills, but really he just enjoys how invested you get - how competitive and passionate, color rising in your cheeks as you defend your assessment, annoyance tinging your tone as you disagree with him, admiration when he notes something you hadn't, and pride when he praises your observations, your cheeks flushed a prettier pink and your eyes sparkling with satisfaction.

"I wouldn't know," he discloses, a slight flush in his cheeks. He hadn't dated at all since the divorce. He hadn't had the time and he hadn't really had interest in anyone. Not when you exist, so overtly present in his day to day life. He knows he's - in some capacity - using the outings with you and Jack as the closest thing he's got to dating again. Not to say that it was that - dating. However the fact that his weekends were typically filled by you and his son made it so he wasn't exactly left wanting.

Your eyes widen a little in surprise. Their divorce had been a while back now - you knew for a fact that Haley was dating, having ran into her with some man when you'd offered to drop Jack off for Hotch when you all got called in on a case last minute. You hadn't mentioned it to him, but you're sure he knew as well. "You're joking. Really? No one?"

"You might recall, I got divorced because I didn't have the time for my existing relationship. A new one requires quite a bit more attention than that," he says dryly, self deprecation dripping from every word.

You hum, narrowing your eyes at him as you stir your drink with the toothpick it came with, spearing the cherry inside and popping it into your mouth.

"You should just go for it next time we're in some whatever town. Every female detective we've encountered constantly gets all moony eyed around you," you inform him matter-of-factly. They're all so obvious too, eyes always drawn to his ring finger in search of a wedding band, and upon finding it empty, hanging onto his every word. Flicking their hair and fluttering their lashes at him, keen on proving themselves to be competent by sticking their noses into the profile.

"That's hardly true," he contradicts, shaking his head, the color in his cheeks having creeped down his neck.

You chuckle at that. "Maybe you're not as good of a profiler as you think you are."

He glares at you, however the lightheartedness remains in his eyes so you know you're in the clear for your jab.

"Anyways, all I'm saying is, whenever you decide to get back on that proverbial horse, I think you won't find a shortage of options," you tell him kindly. After all, Hotch worked harder than any of you. He deserved to find happiness again.

He rolls his eyes at your statement ever so slightly. His right hand was a much less complicated and demanding lover for the time being - he was making do just fine.

"So, on to the next for you then?" he asks, attempting to divert attention back to you and your existent dating life rather than him and his non-existent one.

You shake your head, a humorless smile appearing on your face as you start to feel just slightly light headed from the alcohol. Maybe accepting random pain killers from Emily hadn't been quite the right move. "Nah," you mumble into your drink. "Cedric can stay, if only because I don't have an actual good reason to end it yet. Besides him, the other two on the back burner are quickly losing what little appeal they held to begin with. I might actually take a break."

Hotch smiles as if he doesn't quite believe you're capable of actually taking a break. Your reputation for never being without a date far preceded you.

Truth be told, at first it was simply easier to always be dating someone in the aftermath of the John wreckage. If you could constantly keep yourself occupied and distracted in that area, while you actually gave turning straight a fair shot, then maybe you'd make it through instead of going crawling back to his bed. Maybe you'd stop seeing his broken face when you told him you couldn't be with him. Maybe the memory of leaving him standing alone in front of that tattoo parlor in the Village wouldn't cause your heart to ache and rebel against your own actions. Maybe. Just maybe.

Now, the pain of Julian's death and the subsequent fallout with your family was merely hurtful when you chose to think of it or were reminded of it inadvertently It was no longer ever present. That seemed like progress. Like somehow despite everything - the pain and torture you'd inflicted upon both you and John had somehow been worth it if it meant you could go to sleep without thinking of Julian. Wake up without your father's face looming ever present in your mind.

You and Hotch look up when you see the rest of the team approaching the table one by one as the night drew to a close. It was last call and about time to head home so you could all have a hope of making an appearance at the office the next day.

"You want a ride home?" Hotch asks you, noticing your slight struggle to get out of the booth.

"It's totally out of your way," you protest, yanking your coat on and fishing for your keys in your pocket.

"I insist, come on. You can't drive properly with that sprain right now. He walks towards you and placing his hand at your lower back, guides you out of the bar behind the rest of the team. "Your car should be fine and we can grab it in the morning."

You know he's right, so you allow yourself to lean against him ever so much more, letting him help you out to his car. Hotch helps you in and closes the door behind you, before walking around to the driver's side. You take control of the music, plugging in your phone, intent on introducing him to more modern music. The two of you made it through seven Top 50 songs on the drive to your place, Hotch complaining throughout and not finding anything redeemable in any of the songs you'd chosen.

Aaron looked over at you as he neared your house, your head moving along to the music and your fingers dancing across your thighs to the tune, a large grin plastered on your voice as you tried to convince him that this this one he surely had to enjoy. He actually didn't mind most of the music you picked out to introduce him to - you didn't just pick anything, you always did your best to pick something you thought he'd truly enjoy. However, he worried that if he started to openly like any of them, you might stop trying so hard.

He pulled into your driveway and walked around to help you out of the car, lending you a hand along the path and up the steps to your door. He stands on the lower step as you unlock the door, before you turn around to tell him goodbye. When you turn, you're almost at his height due to the different steps you two are stood upon and you're not quite sure what compels you, but you reach for him and lean in to a hug, tucking your head onto his shoulder. If he's surprised he doesn't react as such, wrapping his arms around you as well briefly.

"Thanks Hotch."

"I'll pick you up at 8:30AM tomorrow. Is that alright?"

"Sounds good. I'll be the one standing right here, holding the cups of coffee."

He smiles, rolling his eyes just slightly, before turning around and walking away.

*------------*

He first becomes aware of only pain. A piercing, stabbing pain that he can feel everywhere, centered around the abdominal area. He can't move, everything feels heavy. Opening his eyes is a struggle and he manages to only open his eyes a fraction, before being forced to close them tight again. It was bright. White and too bright for his sensitive eyes.

He's slowly starting to realize where he is - becoming increasingly aware of the pain and the bandages, the needle connecting an I.V. to his arm - he's in a hospital. He tries to remember what happened - he'd dropped you off, waited until you made it inside and waved him off, before leaving. He'd gotten back to his apartment. It had been quiet. Eerily quiet. Then Foyet was there. After that all he recalls is pain and Foyet's voice - over and over and over.

Do I seem impotent now?

You should've made the deal.

This will never be over.

Aaron finds it too difficult to keep his eyes open and closes them once again, slipping under.

The next time he wakes, a technician was present and the girl quickly hurried out when she noticed him move.

Once the nurses became aware that he was conscious, it had been a flurry of activity - doctors and technicians in and out to ensure he was alright and to up the pain medication. Some talk about internal bleeding and nine stab wounds to which he'd simply nodded along. He tried to ask for Dave - someone who could make sense of all of this. They told him no visitors yet, but that family had been informed.

Once Dave enters, that's when he finds out everything. Foyet had dumped him outside the hospital. After he hadn't shown up to pick you up that morning, you'd raised the alarm and Garcia had tracked him down. Nothing was missing from his apartment from what they could tell, despite the mess. The only thing left out was his address book. Dave had it with him and Aaron looks through it, going immediately to the one page that mattered. It wasn't there.

Haley Brooks.

Rossi had sent you to go get Haley since the Marshalls were getting ready for her. You'd left Jack with JJ, assuring him that you'd be right back. He'd already seen his father and you'd watched from a distance as Hotch had adjusted to sit up, insistent on not letting his son see him as anything but alright, even in the context of a hospital bed. Haley had been with them and you watched as her eyes flitted from Hotch to Jack - fear for her son and what he might have to go through, due to his father's job, her main concern. She was worried for Hotch too, of course. She must be. However, their initial interaction that you'd witnessed hadn't been quite how you'd expect a wife to react to her husband being in a hospital. Though, you suppose, she wasn't really his wife anymore. Not that it mattered to him - you're pretty sure in his eyes, she might as well still be.

You approach, and you can hear Hotch and Haley in conversation about what's going to happen next. Foyet had taken only the page in his address book with her name on it, so his intentions were perfectly clear. Haley and Jack were being targeted by a serial killer. That meant they needed to be protected, and you knew that Hotch would have to break it to her.

"Do you know where they're taking us?" Haley asks. You can hear the uncertainty in her voice. You wait outside, trying not to eavesdrop but it was impossible not to overhear.

"No I don't. And that's the point. I can't know where you're going. If you have any contact with anyone, then he could track you."

"Jack has school, Aaron. He has friends. I have a job now." Her voice is accusing and you want to tell her that none of that matters right now. The only thing that matters is the two of them being safe.

"I know. And I'm sorry. We will catch him. And you'll come back, and I promise that I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you." Hotch's voice comes out low and you can hear the anguish caught in his throat as he speaks to the mother of his child - telling her to take their son and go. Breaking his own heart in the process by keeping Jack away from him. Knowing that that is exactly what Foyet wants. Wants him to suffer.

"Are you sure that we're in danger?" she asks, her voice suggesting that maybe he was overreacting. You feel a surge of anger course through you at that. For her to even suggest that he was overreacting when he was laid up in a hospital bed with multiple stab wounds was simply…you didn't have the words. He wouldn't make her go through this over nothing!

"Yes."

You decide to intervene then. Before she can question it further and agitate him more. He needed to rest. You knock quickly, alerting them both to your presence. "Haley, the Marshalls are ready for you."

She nods and grabs Hotch's hand. You avert your eyes to give them their privacy as Hotch tells her to be brave and strong. He'll see her and Jack after she's met with them.

Haley walks towards you and you point her to the tall female agent standing at the end of the ICU doors, wearing non-descript clothing in order to not garner too much attention. She nods and looks at you, and you see a hint of something pass through her eyes, like she wants to speak, but then seems to think better of it and walks towards the direction you'd pointed her in.  

You watch her go, before turning to Hotch. His eyes followed her until she disappeared around the corner, and then he tilts his head back and closes his eyes. You hesitate for a second, before walking in. Your presence wouldn't be missed for a few minutes, you hope, so you walk towards the bed and take a seat in the chair to his left, waiting until he decides to look at you.

"How're you feeling?" His face is turned towards you as though he's partially surprised you're even there at all. You wonder if he would've preferred you have left him alone instead.

"They're got me some pretty strong meds," he tells you, indicating towards the I.V. drip connected to his arm.

You lean over and read the chart hanging from the side of the bed, eyes glancing over it. "They got you on all of the good stuff - Hydromorphone will get the job done for sure." You try to smile but you know it won't reach your eyes right now.

"How long did it take you to sound the alarm?"

You shift, tilting the chair to look at him better, your teeth worrying your bottom lip and eyes narrowed, trying to work out why he'd ask that. The smell of a hospital was starting to get to you a bit - that odd smell that feels like despair and cleaning supplies. "Ten minutes. At 8:35, I called your cell and you didn't pick up. I called again at 8:36 and 8:37 and 8:38. At 8:39 I told myself I was acting crazy and that the weird feeling I had wasn't anything really. I just needed some breakfast. At 8:40, I called Penelope and had her track you down." You remembered the ten minutes of pure panic you'd gone through when he hadn't been outside at exactly 8:30AM. With anyone else, it wouldn't be a cause for concern. With Hotch, you'd expected him to be there at 8:25AM and so you'd been ready to go by 8:15AM with a travel mug of coffee for the both of you in each hand. He also always texted you when he left his place to come to yours and you hadn't gotten an ETA text that morning. Maybe that's what had originally put you on edge.

He looks at you, an odd look on his face at your explanation as if he's trying to decide what to make of it - the entirely detailed and rambling explanation he got from you, likely catching him off guard a bit. Great, he thinks I'm insane.

A small smile makes its way to his face however, and you're glad he's still capable of that, despite everything. You haven't yet looked down at his bandages. Foyet had stabbed him nine times. You'd seen the notes that Rossi had taken - what Foyet had said to Hotch as he stabbed him. Talking about how Hotch has profiled him as being impotent. The mere act of stabbing Hotch while taunting him with that particular piece of the profile -it filled your stomach with churning acid. It was the closest to sexual assault that Foyet could inflict upon Hotch and you're trying hard not to think about the emotional and mental ramifications of it all for him. The physical was one thing - that's something that people can move past with time. The violation of one's home and one's body however - the toll that takes on ones being and sense of self - that's much more difficult to bury.

Just to even think that he was exaggerating - you're mad all over again at Haley. You shouldn't be. You know that isn't fair at all. She was having her whole life upended. And yet…he was the one in a hospital bed and you're having a hard time recalling her seeming at all concerned for him. She must've been, of course. But…he didn't deserve to be made to feel like shit because of it. It wasn't his fault. Knowing him, he really would spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

You avert your eyes to stare at the wheels at the bottom of the bed. They'd wheeled him, unconscious, past you when you'd first arrived at the hospital, not bothering to go into the office and instead arriving straight from your place via a cab. You'd been the first one there, having Garcia call the rest of the team. You'd called Rossi so that he could be the one to call Haley. He'd known her longer. You'd limped your way into the ICU, bypassing every single security check with a flash of your badge.

Pointless really. They wouldn't let you see him. Family first. You had to wait for Haley and Rossi to arrive - they were his emergency contacts. You briefly wondered if that was because he'd never bothered to update it after the divorce or if that was truly still the case - if she would be the person he'd want to have during an emergency.

"Can I say something?" Your voice comes out small and hesitant. He hadn't said anything in the wake of your explanation earlier.

He nods, looking at you curiously.

You wet your lips, clearing your throat a bit and sitting up straighter. It's not your place, and yet.. someone should say it. Someone should tell him.

"Sometimes, when we love people, we allow them to hurt us. We allow them to ignore our pain in favor of elevating their own. We allow them to bypass our feelings and our needs because we believe we aren't as worthy of having what we need acknowledged. I get why, of course. Especially right now, but.." You trail off, not knowing how to finish what you'd started in a way that didn't complete overstep the boundaries that you'd already crossed. He'd know you had heard. He didn't need to know that right now, you didn't exactly love his ex wife. You liked her just fine. But right then, you didn't appreciate how she'd treated him.

Hotch looks at you, breath caught by your words. He hadn't realized you'd overheard the conversation between him and Haley. There could be no other reason for you to be saying all of that. You'd said it all softly, hesitantly, knowing you were crossing some sort of line and yet you'd still said it because you felt he needed to hear it. We love.. We allow… We believe… You were speaking from some amount of personal experience. Your first question to him had been about how he was doing - unlike both Rossi and Prentiss who had asked him what happened. He's not sure why the distinction matters, yet it does.

Haley was right too, however. He can't be upset with her. This was all his fault. He hadn't made a deal with Foyet and now his family - his son - their lives were being upended. Haley had already put up with a lot during their marriage. The divorce should've meant that she no longer had to bear the consequences of his job. He can't help but feel guilty for that - for putting her in this situation. Especially when he's so overtly aware that he could've kept it from happening.

He watches as you sit in that chair, eyeing him apprehensively, chewing on your bottom lip. You care. He can tell you care. You care so overwhelmingly that it's hard to deny it. Sometimes he wishes you didn't. It would make things a lot easier on him if he could think that he felt something for someone that didn't even think about him - that he never crossed your mind even. However, there's far too much proof to the contrary. So instead he has to live with knowing that you care about him, that you think of him, that you likely - in some capacity - love him. The way one might love a friend or a mentor. Somehow that's worse because he has to then deal with you saying stuff like this. Things that make it seem like only you care.

He doesn't know what to say and he can feel tears forming that he's quick to blink away, hoping you hadn't noticed. He swallows and just nods, not trusting himself to say much of anything that didn't involve asking you to stay - possibly forever, because for the first time since he'd woken up in the hospital, he feels seen.

You try to smile and change the subject, fill him in on the Marshalls' plan with Haley and Jack. Offer to get him ice chips or some food that wasn't from the hospital cafeteria. He notices how at ease you seem in the hospital, and comes to the conclusion that maybe a family member had spent some time in one. You seem to know which nurses to talk to in order to get whatever you needed. You watch like a hawk when they come to do anything with his medications. He's pretty certain you would've slept there overnight had Rossi not asked you to help Morgan with something on the ongoing case.

He misses you as soon as you leave.

*------------*

You catch Jack and Haley on your way out. You know you won't be seeing Jack for a while. The Marshalls would be taking them today. Everything was going to change for them.

You nod at Agent Montgomery - the U.S. Marshall that's going to be on their case for the time being. She shifts, moving to the doorway to give you guys a moment.

Haley is seated at the table, her hands holding onto some paperwork. She meets your eyes briefly and nods before returning to the documents. There's a pen in her hands and you can't help but note that her fingers shake around it a bit.

Jack is seated at another table nearby, Agent Montgomery having cleared the breakroom for their meeting.

"Hey buddy." You kneel down to where Jack has been sitting, coloring a printout that one of the nurses must've provided. Jack turns to you, showing off his work. "That looks amazing, Jack!"

He beams with pride at your praise. "Thanks, Y/N."

"I have to head out, okay. I just wanted to say goodbye before I left."

Jack gets up and hugs you, wrapping his little pudgy arms tightly around your neck, allowing you to sweep him up entirely. You know this is the last time you'll get to hold him for quite a while, so you allow it to linger, hugging him back tight. "I love you, Jack." Whispered into his ear while you blink back tears.

You release him and stand, making sure he's settled back into his activity and occupied, before turning to Haley. She stands, walks with you a small distance away from Jack. It isn't fair, what's happening to her. You don't really hold anything against her. It's awful, entirely awful what's happening - her whole life was about to be uprooted because of your jobs. Because of all of your collective failure to catch Foyet the first time. It was your mistake and her and Jack were going to pay for it.

You look up at her and you can see how entirely scared she is of what's about to happen. To have to do this on your own was one thing. Doing it with a partner, another. To have to do it all alone while supporting a child - she wouldn't have anyone she knew to rely upon. All by herself and unable to trust anyone.

"We're going to find him. We're gonna catch him. I promise." You know words were of little solace but that's all you have to give right then.

She smiles, a watery smile to match the unshed tears in her eyes. There's a shaky nod before she moves forward, hugging you in much the same manner Jack had. She's a bit taller than you, so you try to stand straight, allowing her to lean against you. "Take care of him." Her voice is a whisper against your ear, as though she's entrusting you with something extremely precious. Which she is, you suppose. She's counting on you to make sure that Hotch would be alright. That Jack's father would be fine, awaiting his son's return.

"I will."

*------------*

It had been a week since Foyet had left Hotch outside the hospital. A week since Haley and Jack had been taken into WITSEC protective custody and given new identities in an unknown location. A week since Morgan had become the new acting Unit Chief of the BAU, taking over in Hotch's stead. To the public - to the outside world - and especially to Foyet, it had to seem like his attack on Hotch had left him completely alone and broken - no wife, no kid, no team to lead.

You hated it.

The team had been assigned a new case late Sunday evening after you'd all pretty much spent the past couple of days in the hospital. Hotch was discharged earlier in the day and was under strict orders to stay on bedrest for the time being. You'd all flown out early Monday morning and it was now Saturday evening, the case having stretched out the entire week due to the Unsub's kill schedule.

You got back home after submitting your report, grabbing a water and a pack of the little bunny crackers you keep on hand for Jack. You're pretty sure you won't be seeing Jack before those expire and someone should eat them. You shower and get dressed for bed, thinking about Hotch. You knew he was home and would be coming back to work next week, doing the absolute bare minimum bed rest that the doctor had mandated. You're fairly certain the doctor had been intimidated into it by Hotch's severe face, daring him to say anything longer than a week.

It's fairly late by the time you actually crawl into bed, plugging your phone into the charger by the nightstand and flickering off the lights, plunging the room into darkness save for the red glow of the alarm clock stating that it was now eleven o'clock. You wonder if anyone has checked in on him while the team has been away. Perhaps Jess, but she must also be out of her mind with worry about Haley and Jack.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you've grabbed your phone and scrolled to his name in your Favorites, pressing on it. You hold the phone up to your ear and listen as it rings, once, twice, thrice, until you hear the sound of it being picked up.

"Hotchner." His voice is low but doesn't sound sleepy, so you're at least confident that you hadn't woken him up. Having nothing to do but lay around must be messing with his carefully regulated sleep schedule.

You suppress a laugh at his formal no-nonsense greeting, even though he undoubtedly knows it's you. "Hey." Your voice comes out breathier than intended.

"Is everything alright?" There's a slight edge evident in his voice and you realize that maybe calling him at eleven at night when his wife - ex-wife - and kid are being kept away safe wasn't exactly the right move.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's alright. I'm sorry. I just called to check in. How are you?"

There's a pause where you can hear the ambient sounds of your house settling in along with him shifting - the rustling of a bedsheet and the groan of the frame as he moves to adjust himself. So he had been in bed when you called.

Finally, you hear, "I'm alright. Thank you for dropping off the food."

"Yeah, yeah of course," you respond, your heartbeat picking up a bit for some reason. You figure it's because you're unsure of the call itself still and knowing that Hotch was in bed and you'd likely disturbed him in some sense at least, makes you feel a little uneasy.

For his part, Aaron had been going stircrazy, sitting at home with nothing whatsoever to do. The Marshalls had taken Haley and Jack the very same day. Dave had taken him from the hospital and back to his apartment and Garcia and JJ had dropped by the same day with some groceries and a couple of ready to eat meals for him.

He spent most of Sunday sleeping, the strong painkillers making him drowsy. Monday morning, he awoke to his doorbell and his nurse, Eric, from the hospital was there to help him with the dressage. He didn't think that was covered by his insurance - he could only imagine how much home visits from a medical professional cost - and had told Eric there was some sort of mistake. However, Eric had insisted that someone at the hospital had already worked it out and insurance wasn't an issue - this was a covered service apparently. Since Aaron already knew him, and he really could use the help, he'd let him in. Eric had entered holding a large box of food as well, that he said had been left at the door along with a note. After Eric left, Aaron had opened the box to reveal pre-portioned meals - all homemade, all different, all things he could throw in a microwave easily. The note was just signed with your name, telling him to call if he needed anything else.

He'd slept through most of the days, awakening only to let Eric in daily. He ate only because he had to in order to take his medications. Otherwise his mind was a haze of thoughts and worries - worrying about Jack and Haley, about Foyet being around the next corner, about the team managing without him, and somewhere at the farthest reaches of his mind your face danced around - worried and concerned for him, despite doing your very best to appear otherwise.

When your name flashed across his phone late at night, at first he felt the thrust of panic - that something had happened. And then there's your voice, calm and even, asking him how he's doing. No one else had called him. Dave and Prentiss had texted once or twice over the week, but with a case going on, everyone had been busy.

There's a brush of silence after he thanks you for the food and he can hear you take a breath and shift ever so much. He realizes that you're calling him while most likely lying in bed. It causes his heart to speed up and a tight coil to begin tightening in his stomach. It's utterly benign - he has no reason to feel that way, and yet, yet he does.

"How was the case?" he asks, desperate for someone to speak with, not wanting the phone call to end.

You're slightly surprised but you easily talk him through the details of the case, the profiling process and how the team had approached it. You find yourself babbling on for a while as he asks you questions about the evidence, how the local detectives had been, how the team was doing.

Aaron listens to you, taking it all in. You're good at this, providing all the details you know he'd want. You notice everything, all the little things. How the local detectives had responded to Morgan being in charge - how it had been easier for JJ to liaise with them more closely instead. How Reid was getting much more comfortable with having a weapon in the field. There's a soft, sleepy quality to you despite your obvious willingness to tell him everything. Your voice like a salve, doing more for him than any of the medications the doctors had prescribed.

He's not sure when or how, but the conversation has meandered from the case to something Prentiss had told you once, to a story he had of Dave and Gideon back when he first joined the team, and then to a professor of yours from college who had been particularly invested in the Bundy trials in a near obsessive manner. He finds himself laughing for the first time since that night at the bar with you.

When his eyes next catch the time, it is past 2AM. You'd been on the phone for the past three hours. Before this, the longest phone call he's ever had was fifteen minutes.

"It's late," he whispers, almost as though he doesn't want you hear him. "You should get some sleep."

You glance at your clock and find yourself shocked at how long the two of you had been on the phone together. Who knew Hotch was even capable. Though, you figure, you'd been doing the bulk of the talking, rambling on about something or the other. He must be utterly exhausted of listening to your voice.

"You should too," you murmur through a yawn, your eyes flickering under the weight of your lashes.

"Good night, Y/N." You can hear a smile in his voice and it's almost as though you can feel him - the way he feels when he hugs you, warm and strong, firm against you, surrounding you completely with his being.

"Night Hotch."

*------------*

Hotch had been back a couple of weeks and the team was adjusting. While Morgan was indeed the public face of the team, Hotch was very still involved and working far too much behind the scenes. You've kept an eye on him, looking for signs of him overexerting himself. He is, of course. He's burying himself in work, diving in head first because that's likely easier than focusing on everything else. So far, all you've done is give him looks that say Shouldn't you be going home? and Is this really what you want to spend a Wednesday at 9PM doing? He doesn't acknowledge them openly but you know that he knows that you see exactly what he's trying to do. He'll leave once he realizes that you're staying if he is.  

You're not quite sure how to check on him during the weekends. Before, you used to have Jack as the reason why you saw him. Now, without Jack, you're not quite sure how to go about seeing Hotch and making sure he's alright, without it somehow being seen as overstepping. You nudge Rossi to go check on him one of the days and then another, you invited the entire team over for dinner so that you know he ate. You know he won't let you cook for him if he's no longer on bedrest, even though the way he holds his gun and the sharp inhale he takes anytime he has to put the Kevlar on is extremely telling.

JJ wants everyone in the conference room on the other side of the floor since your regular one is taken and she calls you to inform everyone of the change in venue for the scheduled meeting. You glance up from your desk after having told Derek and Emily of the location change, trusting them to tell Spencer when he returns. JJ isn't expecting everyone for another half hour, and Emily had caught Rossi as he was heading out to lunch, so he's also aware. Emily and Derek follow in his steps, asking if you're going to join them, but you wave them on ahead.

You take the steps up to Hotch's office swiftly, knocking and turning the knob in one motion, only to find him standing behind his desk, no jacket or tie, shirt unbuttoned, a patch of red visible on his skin from one of the stab wounds inflicted by Foyet. He looks up at you and you can feel the surprise in his eyes. It was your fault, you should've waited. That was stupid. Your eyes can't seem to look away from the blood spotting the otherwise white wrappings that sit in a pile on the desk.

"I - I'm sorry," you stutter out, blinking and trying to make sense of the sight in front of you. You notice that his shirt was also equally marred, the blood having seeped through. You'd obviously interrupted him.

He draws a breath, and you can see him try to put on a mask of being unbothered by your sudden appearance. "Did you need something?"

'Um, JJ had to move the briefing to the other conference room," you inform him, still unable to look away. You're staring. You know are. It's dawning upon you how entirely you'd fucked up. Hotch was such a private person. He'd hate having someone see him in such a state of vulnerability.

He nods. "Thank you. Could you close the door, please?"

You don't move from your spot in the doorway.

"Y/N?"

You're not sure what exactly has overcome you, except this overwhelming need to take care of him. Especially now, right then when he's hurting. Bleeding quite literally. Hotch takes care of everyone. Every single one of you. But no one takes care of him. Not the way he needs to be cared for.

You cross the threshold, shutting and locking the door behind you. He seems entirely taken aback as you approach him silently. There's a voice in your head telling you that this, right here, this was the definition of overstepping. Yet, there is a more insistent compulsion residing within you, urging you forward until you've reached him. He looks at you, confusion in his features.

"Let me." You reach for the alcohol wipes on the table, meant to disinfect the affected region.

He doesn't say anything, but he also doesn't move, making it difficult for you to actually reach him as he's standing flush to his desk. He only looks at you, brows scrunched together, the pronounced cleft of his lower lip set tightly.

"Let me." You repeat yourself, moving forward and forcing him to back up a little and make room for you. You deftly move to sit on his desk, facing him, and beckon him towards you without looking up. If you looked up, you might lose your nerve.

You part your legs and much to your surprise, he actually moves forward, coming to settle between them. You can feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. You're suddenly very aware of the friction between his dress pants and the material of your own fitted ones.

You take the alcohol wipe and tear open the packaging, unraveling the cloth before cautiously moving towards him and dabbing at the area that seemed to have opened up slightly. He releases a sharp hiss and suddenly, his hand is at your waist, gripping tightly. You pause, looking up at his face. His eyes are shut, lips pressed tightly together. After a second, he nods, indicating at you to continue. He doesn't make a sound again as you clean up the area, though he does tighten his grip ever so slightly a couple more times.

You look at the items on his desk and pick up the jar of salve that he must put on prior to the dressings. Carefully, you unscrew the lid, looking up at him with a question in your eyes. He nods again, barely looking at you.

You try to do it quickly. Fingers picking up some of the salve and gingerly spreading it over the region, brushing past raised skin, puckered up as it heals. Slowly. Not fast enough for him.

Aaron watches as your head is bent, teeth biting down on your lower lip in concentration as you gently span the entirely of his chest and stomach. Soft, dainty fingers quickly working so as to put him out of his misery faster.

Of all people, he didn't want you to see him this way. So vulnerable, so exposed, so scarred. You'd thrown him off balance when you hadn't quickly scampered away after you realized your error in barging in. Approached him with such purpose that he hadn't known how to turn you away.

You reach for the fresh roll of gauze next, swallowing as you look up at him once again. "This would be easier if you take the shirt off."

He shrugs it off at your words, placing it on the back of his chair. There's a fresh shirt on the seat of his chair. He'd been prepared, it would seem.

"This might put a dent in the line of women waiting to pounce." He indicates towards his chest, self deprecation dripping from his weak attempt at humor, in an effort to cut whatever imaginary tension he had made up in his head.

You look at his face, seeing the vulnerability and insecurity as plain as can be. He doesn't need to verbalize his thoughts in order for you to know exactly what he's thinking. What he's been thinking.

Who would want someone this grotesque?

Who would want a man as broken as this?

Who could possibly bear the sight of him - marred forever? His very flesh a perpetual reminder of the terror he wades through, the monsters he encounters, the horror that is his life.

"No."

Your answer is simple, straightforward. Yet nothing has ever confused him more as he watches you hold one end of the gauze to the front of his chest near the top of the scarring, and then bring the roll around his back, over it to hold it in place, your small hands ghosting over his skin with the utmost propriety, intent in making this as painless, as easy, as comfortable for him as possible.

"I'm not going to tell you some patronizing bullshit about scars being beautiful."

You control your breath in easy measured paces, forcing him to follow along. One breath in. Pause. Breath out. Repeat. You continue to wrap the dressing around his chest slowly, your eyes fixed on the task at hand to ensure that it was all straight and even, tight but not too tight.

"They do, however, speak to all that you've endured. All that you've conquered. Overcome. Anyone who loves you will see you just as you are. They would think you absolutely incredible. Regardless of anything. Because of it all."

Aaron focuses on your voice, soft and melodic and yet sure. So very sure. How could you possibly be so sure?

"Someone who loves you will see the scars," your fingers press ever so slightly against his chest, "and they will know. They will know all that you've undergone to become who are - how you survived despite the odds."

You take a sudden shuddered breath as you recall the sight of him unconscious in the hospital bed, being wheeled past you. You're quick to shake it away.

"They will be grateful. To have you, scars and all."

You finish, tucking in the end of the gauze firmly and ensuring it wouldn't come loose with just the slightest of motions.

You look up at him then, finally meeting his eyes properly. Beautiful, deep brown eyes with flecks of gold brought on by the late afternoon sunlight that was filtering through the windows.

Aaron can't help but look at you. He rarely gets to see you this up close. So very close. If he were to just bend down the smallest amount, there'd be no space at all. Your hair bundled back into a professional low bun, soft wisps framing your face. The cupid's bow lips - pouty, pink, perfect lips. The upturned nose and the slight babyface cheeks that accompanied it. He realizes his hand is still gripped onto your waist and he's reluctant to remove it. Not yet. In a bit. Not yet.

"Thank you." His eyes are closed as he says it so he misses it when you nod your acknowledgement.

You lean past him, one hand grabbing his forearm for balance while the other reaches for the shirt on the chair. You'd started the job. Might as well finish it. You unbutton the collar and he takes it from you, quickly slipping it on, and yet not moving away. His hand returns to your waist. Staying where you could easily reach up and start buttoning it for him. So you do.

Aaron knows you don't need a response to everything you'd said. He also is quite certain that you believe it. No matter the entirely shallow world you'd been a part of, he knows that you aren't like that. You might be a little vain - the nice clothes and makeup, the care you put into your own appearance. However, you're not vain like this.

Aaron breathes out a deep sigh that he'd been holding for some time as you dexterously work each button into its proper hole. He really could get used to this. To you.

"Why do you always sit on stuff?" His voice is soft and low, calmer.

You glance up, noting the slight humor dancing behind his eyes while he waits for your answer.

You can't help but smile, a breath of laughter escaping you just barely. "I suppose…because I'm short," you admit, shaking your head as you continue down the trail of buttons. "Makes it easier for me to be at eye level if I sit on higher surfaces."

He laughs. A near boisterous laugh. His chest rumbles underneath your hands, causing your fingers to tremble.

You can't help but laugh along with him, releasing a deep held breath as you do.

He would be alright. He would.

[realm-sweet-realm]

A Worthwhile Investment, chapter 2

Please enjoy this Shawn x Grant story. It is a part of my canon.

Thankfully, Shawn and Grant were able to sneak out undetected. Shawn knew the warehouse Norman had told them to meet at- the one Lacie worked in, roughly two blocks from the studio and not visible from it. From there, they called a cab to take them to a bar (as Norman had promised and Shawn had reminded him) and declared themselves safe.

“Uh, sorry the raid was a bust,” Shawn said.

“It wasn’t.” Norman held up a set of keys. “I can go anywhere I want in the studio now, whenever. And I saw Sammy Lawrence wearing a Bendy mask. I knew it. I knew he was a part of this. I’m gonna crack this if it kills me.”

“Sure you will,” Lacie drawled. “Mind telling us why this is your choice of hobby? Like, why are you like this?” Shawn could tell that she was using her friendly cold, judgmental tone, which was different from her genuinely cold, judgmental tone. He hoped Norman could, too.

“Like I’d tell you. What, you think I’d ask for your life story just like that?”

“I’ll tell it. I ain’t got nothing to hide. I was born to two crack-addicted pieces of shit, so I learned to rely on the parents of neighbourhood kids on days they decided not to care for me. It was like that basically my entire life before my sister sorted herself out and I moved in with her. But it taught me I could take care of myself, so I didn’t mind moving with Bertrum wherever he went, and I didn’t cry when he retired.”

“And it’s a good thing he retired, or I might not’ve met Lacie when ah did. Bein’ an immigrant, away from home for the first time an’ barely speaking teh language- it woulda been real lonely otherwise. Of course, Ah make friends easy, but I’m still glad she was one'a them.”

Lacie’s sharp eyes landed on Grant. They’d only met once before and neither had been too comfortable with the other. “And what about you, Grant? Anything interesting in your past?”

“Oh, no. Normal upbringing. Parents who loved me. Nothing special.” It was lame, but it was the truth.

The four of them kept chatting for about an hour.

How did I end up surrounded by the three strongest people I know? Grant wondered. Most of his friends growing up had been cousins or kids of family friends, and his social circle hadn’t diversified much since, until he met Shawn and Norman. Comparatively, these three were freaks. But they were all so respectable, and honestly, Shawn and Norman were some of the best friends he’d ever had.

Life in general had given Grant a lot to be thankful for as of late. The early thirties had been hard on him- after the stock market crashed, he’d gone through a job loss, the collapse of his marriage, some domestic abuse, his divorce, and losing custody of his children. But now? Things were alright. He had a new job, and the studio was, generally speaking at least, holding steady financially. Against all odds, his daughters seemed to be fine living with their mother- maybe she had been serious about working on herself for them. Grant cherished the time he did have with them, and though he hated to admit it, he was much happier divorced. And of course, now he had these two. It was while he was there, listening to the three of them talk, that he realized that he was currently the most content he’d been in years.

Shawn had had a few drinks by that point, and leaned on Grant as though he intended to fall asleep on him.

“I think I should take Shawn home. Norman, can we talk about something tomorrow? In the projector booth.”

“Of course,” Norman said. Something in the way he said it told Grant that he already knew what it would be about.

---

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Norman asked, as if he didn’t already know.

“It’s about Shawn,” Grant started. How much to say? He figured that Norman knew he was gay- very little escaped Norman’s notice, after all- but maybe Norman was only okay with that because he didn’t act on it.

“You know Sammy Lawrence?” Norman mused, looking through the window into the music room. “For a long time, he was dating his- very much male, I should mention- lyricist. I saw them making out once- this gorgeous pretty boy and this middle-aged marshmallow- I guess love is blind and all that. I’ve got no damning evidence of it, but I’d bet anything that Joey Drew is gay as well. And I could go on! This studio has more queer people than you would believe, and my powers tell me about more than just existential dreads.” There was a pause. Norman turned back to look at Grant. “So. As a living lie-detector, one of the best gaydars you’ll ever see on a straight man, and your best friend of over half a decade who would never betray you... you can tell me anything about what’s going on with him.”

Grant gave a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad you’re okay with this. And yes, I’m considering dating Shawn.”

“Great. He likes you- I could tell.”

“Thanks. But I already knew- he kissed me suddenly about ten days ago. I didn’t know how to react, and I kind of froze up, and I told him that I liked him, but I needed to think about whether we could be together. Up until last night, I thought I’d tell him ‘no-’ I just hadn’t had the willpower to yet. And then I had an epiphany.”

“What was the epiphany?”

“I realized that I respect a bunch of very unconventional people- yourself included- so it’s okay that I’m not perfectly conventional. But... even if it’s not inherently wrong, the idea of acting on it still scares me. If my mother ever found out, it would break her heart. My father would be humiliated if anyone else knew about it, and he might not want to speak to me again. And if it got to my ex-wife, she’d do anything she could to keep me away from my kids- she might even report me. I don’t have to worry about any of that if I don’t act on it. I don’t know... is it even responsible to risk it? These are people I have obligations to. Is it worth it?”

“Well, only you can choose that. But don’t you want a chance at actual love? I mean, I sure like having a loving partner. Why give that up over the risk that someone else might find out?”

“I guess you’re right. Shawn could be my only opportunity for a while. I really don’t know if I want to get involved in whatever culture gay men have going on. If the stereotypes are true, I’d be walking into a group of dangerous people looking to take advantage of a naïve outsider. Of course, they might not be true, but I don’t want to just walk in without knowing. And anyhow, I wouldn’t know how to find anything like that if I tried.”

Norman nodded, taking some time to process everything he’d said. “Alright. Look- you’re overcomplicating a bunch of simple problems by rolling them together into one big problem. Just take it one issue at a time. You want your family to be happy? Make them happy, and don’t worry about something that won’t hurt them. Any partner you might have will know that this kind of thing has to be kept secret, and New York is a big city- you can hide it. You want to date Shawn? Date Shawn. I can tell he makes you happy. You don’t want to get into gay culture without knowing what it’s like? Then don’t. I don’t know anything about their culture, but you have no idea how many gay men are here at Joey Drew Studios. Plenty of people you can ask about it to decide if it’s your thing.”

“Wow. Thank you. You really made that all sound so simple.” Norman had a way of cutting straight to the point.

“Yeah. You’re gonna be okay. Heck, even if you decide not to have a love life after Shawn, I’m glad you’ll be doing it because you’re risk-adverse and not because you’re still ashamed.”

“Thanks again. Now I need to go find Shawn.”

In the end, Grant couldn’t find Shawn before it was time to get back to work, so the next day he left a note in his locker with some flowers. Like a schoolboy. Ridiculous. But that was how Shawn made him feel.

Over the next few years, their relationship went on, and off, and on again. They fought, probably more than the average couple. But overall, they were glad to have each other. It was worth it.    

[northcarolinanative]

𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗/𝙲𝚑 𝟷𝟹

Chapter 13: Don’t Remind Me 

A/N: I am so sorry for the late update. I haven’t been feeling particularly motivated the past week or so, but hopefully, I am back and will be writing more:) thank you guys so much for reading my stuff, it means the world really. As always my asks/requests/messages are open:) 

Description: John B’s Sister comes home from staying with their mom, only to find out that her brother is missing and her dad was murdered. JJ may have just lost his best friend. Her and JJ have to figure out what to do and how to pick up the pieces.

Need to catch up?  Full Collision Masterlist

JJ insisted that we both text Kie and Pope about the previous encounter with Barry. He wanted to make sure that they were aware of the situation, and were looking out for Rafe. If anything, after the way Rafe looked when I saw him, Pope should be scared. JJ was getting frustrated, repeating what we had to do to me. He kept pacing through the kitchen, clearly still on edge from the encounter with Barry. 

“Deny, Deny, Deny,” I spoke cutting JJ off. “I know,” I spoke standing up and walking to the opposite side of the bar that JJ was leaning against. “We don’t know anything, the hot tub was a gift from uncle T, felt bad for leaving JB here alone so much right?” I questioned him. 

He shrugged his shoulders before nodding. “I need to get 50k quick, Y/N.” He said again. “How the hell am I gonna do that? I mean Pope said he’d help me pay back the restitution, but I can’t ask him to do that.” He shook his head. 

I hated how JJ was so stubborn, especially now. “Hey, you didn’t pull the plug on Topper’s boat yourself right?” I looked at him raising an eyebrow, the stern tone of my voice was evident. 

“I talked him into it though. You and I both know Pope would not have done that if I wouldn’t have been there.” He fired back. 

“Well, he still did it JJ, which is why I think that you should let him help you pay back the restitution. You put this on your record, this isn’t just a fight on the point or shoplifting JJ, you took the fall for a felony.” I said emphasizing what he did. 

“Thanks, Y/N. I really needed a reminder of that” He spat out, pushing himself off the counter turning and pulling his hands through his hair. I could tell that I was getting under his skin, but he needed to hear it. At least that’s what I was telling myself. “You gonna remind me that I also stole money from a drug dealer, or that the cops could come banging on the door because Rafe was found innocent and I am an accomplice to murder, or that just lost my best friend searching for a damn ship?” He said turning around, his voice rising with each point. 

“Oh don’t even go there JJ,” I said warning him about his last statement, standing up from my seat. He scoffed and shook his head.

 “I lost my best friend, and you lost your brother dude. The guy who’s guilty just beat you in front of the other fucking kooks. How are you not pissed?” He asked as he moved closer to me. I could feel the anger radiating off his body. I was almost always the one to stay calm when the boys would get hot-headed. I was always the level headed one, especially last summer when Kie wasn’t around. “We’re alone Y/N. How are we gonna do this?” He said. While he fronted the statement with rage and anger I heard the pain behind it. We didn’t have parents to run home to at night, or a rich family to bail him out, we had us and the small hope that John B and Sarah were alive. Alive in Nassau. 

“JJ, take a deep breath alright,” I said trying to calm him down. I didn’t want him to break. I felt it coming, with all the pressure that he was feeling right now, I could sense that a breaking point was close. “Please,” I whispered to him, putting my hand on his bicep trying to get him to look at me. 

“No, Y/N, I won’t calm down.” He said shaking my hand from his arm. “I’m fucking livid and you should be too.” He said before storming out of the house. 

“JJ please wait.” I yelled as I stepped out onto the porch, but it was too late. I heard the familiar sound of his bike as it revved and the cloud of sandy dust was kicked up behind him. 

I sighed, leaning my head against the door frame leading outside. I had been through this before, but it was different this time, this time it was JJ instead of John B. After the disappearance of our father John B and I would stay on the phone for hours recounting memories and talking about what he could have been doing. Neither of us was ready to think of the alternative, so we would say that he fled into Canada, or that he was on some island he bought with the gold. We made up crazy theories and laughed but the conversations almost always took a turn to JB recounting the last few moments he had spent with his father. I could hear the guilt that he felt for what he had said to him. Even after months, during our last phone call, he was angry, talking about how DCS wanted to move him because Uncle T was off somewhere and JB couldn’t get to him. 

When I offered to get to reach out he said he didn’t want her help. While mine and my mother's relationship was definitely not something I bragged about, her relationship with John B was worse, almost nonexistent, but with a heavy seasoning of hate. John B blamed her for the divorce, saying she could have stayed on the Island, saying that she ran away from her mistakes. Both John B and I were too young at the time to understand what had happened between our parents. All we had been able to piece together from the two of them was that our mother had an affair with someone from Figure 8, causing their divorce. 

I looked out over the yard, seeing the hot tub as the sun reflected off the still water, my thoughts made their way back to JJ. I understood why he was mad. He had 30k in restitution, while Rafe and Ward Cameron walked, untouched by the law, for killing the sheriff. I wanted Rafe to rot in a prison cell, but knew that mine and the pogues' statements held nothing against Ward's “eyewitness testimony.” 

I was shaken from my thoughts as a loud knock echoed through the house. I was startled, about to make a run for it when I heard it again followed by a loud male voice. “Kildare County Sheriff’s Department.” I froze walking into the house looking for anything incriminating that they might try to take from us. Another knock echoed and seemed to shake the house with it.

 I made my way to the door, taking a deep breath before turning the handle and pulling the door open, just enough for them to see me and my face. “How can I help you?” I stated, putting on the friendliest smile that I could muster up. 

I recognized the officer as Shoupe, but the other was a female, had a few old cuts, and bruises littering her face. Shoope looked at me and then back to the officer to his right. I could see him putting the pieces together. Why did I open the door? I knew this was gonna happen eventually. “I knew you looked familiar when I saw you at the point the other day,” Shoope said as he finally put it all together. His partner had a look of confusion covering her face as she looked between the two of you. “Y/N Routledge” He spoke, the officer’s eyes widening as she looked over me. I nodded sarcastically in her direction, letting her know that I was not satisfied with her facial expression. I looked over at Shoope the same expression towards him, letting him know I was not happy with him. “You here by yourself?” He questioned, trying to look past me in the doorway. 

“No, My mom went to get some stuff from the mainland. We’re cleaning out, going back and forth.” I said quickly. It was a vague enough lie that I hoped he believed. The last thing I need is DCS here, starting the cycle over like it was with John B. 

Shoupe nodded his head but scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. “Is there something I can help you with or where you just coming to check up on me?” I said leaning against the door frame. 

“We’re looking for JJ, got a few questions for him. He here?” Shoup cut straight to the point. 

I shook my head. “JJ isn’t here,” I said plainly. Technically it wasn’t a lie. Shoupe gave me a questioning look. I shrugged my shoulders, last time I saw him was yesterday morning, he was making deliveries to someone over on Figure 8.” I lied again. This one seemed to please Shoupe as he nodded before stepping back from the door. 

“Thanks, Y/N.” He nodded before moving down the stairs, followed reluctantly by the other officer. He turned one last time and spoke, “We’ll be back to talk to you, your mom, and the rest of your friends.” He smiled, but it just caused my stomach to turn at his words. I watched as they looked back over to me while backing out of the driveway. I smiled before waving to them. I closed the door behind me, sliding my back down until my butt hit the ground. I let my head fall in my hands. JJ was gone, god knows where and the police were looking for him? I slipped my phone out of my pocket, sending a quick text to the other’s saying that the police were sniffing around the area, to lay low. 

I hit my head back against the door and let out a long deep breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding. I was starting to stress out as the day's events seemed to just keep piling up. It was barely 7:30 but I was exhausted, from my encounter with Rafe to the Wreck to Barry to JJ to the cops. I needed a break. 

I made my way over to the bed in the living room, slowly sinking down into it. I rolled over, close to JJ’s side. I wrapped myself in the blanket that somehow managed to smell like him. I laid there, happy for the calm and quiet. One thought kept circulating my mind though. JJ was right, What the fuck are we gonna do?

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[normal-thoughts-official]

Actually, anti parabatai plot as a criticism of the oppressive regime would have been super interesting. Like they literally perform some magical ritual on minors. Moreover, it’s seen as prestigious and is highly encouraged. Moreover, if children have doubts they can’t even properly discuss them. Notice how in 2x03 Alec is left so alone he only has his baby sister to share his misgivings about the ritual. Moreover, he isn’t even happy about the upcoming ceremony. It really feels like he only ->

-> out of obligation (reminds me of ‘are you happy’, ‘yes, I’m following my duty’). Idk maybe it was indoctrinated that cancelling the ceremony once you gave your word is unthinkable, dishonourable, shameful or some other shit. Anyway, Alec didn’t look enthusiastic AT ALL. We don’t see what role Maryse and Robert played in this but they were probably their toxic selves. Besides, it’s strange to make a team out of two people so different both personality and career wise. And speaking of indoctrination, you can see children getting ingrained with this shit from the very young age. Like little Izzy may not have wanted a parabatai herself but you can see she was still affected. Jace legit said that they were gonna be REAL brothers as if something stopped him seeing Alec as such without a magical tattoo which is major yikes

EXACTLY!!! you get it!!!!!! not only that but the whole "the biggest pain a shadowhunter could ever know is losing a parabatai", "parabatai are the most important people to each other", "parabatai are in perfect tune" etc like so much shit that was straight up NOT SHOWN TO BE TRUE throughout the plot. valentine and luke were parabatai and he betrayed him, jace basically never gave a fuck about alec's wellbeing, he couldn't even tell when alec was literally dying lol also the bond isn't even that strong, like if ur away for a while or try to TRACK THEM it breaks??? and in the books robert and michael were parabatai as well and then they never talked again and robert legit straight up couldnt tell when michael DIED AND WAS REPLACED BY VALENTINE WITH A GLAMOUR like My God

my hc for this whole thing is that the parabatai thing was invented to increase sh loyalty to each other as well as their teamwork, and they made up this bunch of bullshit about it being like family and super important and their pain is your pain and blah blah blah to seem more desirable. kinda like how spartans encouraged relationships between soldiers to make them stronger? or how compulsory monogamy teaches you that the way to achieve happiness is through One Single Person who will be perfect for you always oops

actually o shit there are plenty of parallels between parabataiship and compulsory monogamy and i think i'm gonna go into that now. so mandatory disclaimer that compulsory monogamy =/= your monogamous relationship, just like heteronormativity =/= your heterosexual relationship. okay? okay. if yall come for me screaming that Monogamous People Aren't All Toxic i will ignore you because that's not what i'm saying and i just explicitly stated that. okay? okay

so i’m gonna skip the historical part because compulsory monogamy is very intimately related with the invention of capitalism, private property and etc., and that doesn’t work quite as well in the context of sh since it’s more of a military society than anything, and again, i do believe that it’s more of a “making them more likely to be loyal”/less likely to question missions and stuff thing. but the effects of parabataiship as it is constructed in sh lore are very similar to those of compulsory monogamy in real life:

the whole loyalty thing that can be very easily turned into toxicity/co-dependency/straight up abusive and unequal dynamics. again, i’m talking about monogamy as a system, not saying that all monogamous relationships are toxic, okay? if i sound insistent here, it’s because you wouldn’t believe the amount of times i put 4981749318 disclaimers like that and ppl still got offended on behalf of their monogamous relationships i wasn’t talking about

i’ll go further into that. monogamy ideology, like parabatai ideology, tells us that there’s a kind of relationship that is superior to all others and should be prioritized above all others (romantic relationships for monogamy ideology, parabataiship for parabatai ideology. compulsory monogamy and amatonormativity are more than just intimately related, they are a part of the other). this means that not putting the person you have this kind of relationship with above all others is seen as a crime and betrayal. and i’m not talking about cheating here, i’m talking about stuff such as “would you let your partner go to parties without you?”, seeing you at a place without your partner and asking where they are and why they didn’t come with you/assuming that you must have fought or broken up, considering that a relationship is doomed or not very close if its parts are not literally inseparable, turning the two parts of a relationship into some kind of almost symbiotic creature, where you stop being “A and B” and become “A-and-B” (this exact wording is even a trope in romantic fiction, esp fanfic), “would your missus let you come with us?”, having huge fights because one party wants to go somewhere and the other doesn’t and they can’t come to an agreement on that, etc., i think you get it by now

this mindset that the person you have this particular kind of relationship with should be prioritized above all others, that a part of your sense of self should be merged with theirs, that you essentially have to become a unit, and that it’s hard, but you have to fight to make it work (”love hurts”, “love is tough, it’s like that”, “if you love someone you have to make sacrifices for them”, etc) makes people feel guilty whenever they don’t put that person and their wishes above all else, or even when they want to do something without them, because that is seen as not loving them enough. not only that, but monogamy ideology promises you that once you find The One™ you will achieve a kind of happiness and perfection in your life that you couldn’t get any other way. this means that people are effectively scared of breaking up or of not having/wanting a relationship like that, because it means that they are broken and will never be truly happy (see what i meant when i said that amatonormativity and monogamy ideology are a part of each other?). that’s why you see people saying shit like “my greatest fear is to waste many years on a relationship and break up in the end”, “if you aren’t dating to get married you’re dating to get your heart broken”, etc. 

so you see people trying their damn hardest to stay loyal to the relationship even when it obviously doesn’t make them happy, feeling guilty for not being happy, and accepting toxic mindsets and abuse because they feel like they owe it to them. especially the weakest link in the relationship - notably women in monogamy ideology, as monogamy is also inherently linked with the patriarchy and in monogamy ideology specifically a woman in a het relationship is seen as more than just a part of the man she is in a relationship with, she’s seen as his property, but that dynamic can also be inverted or ruled by other factors such as race, sexuality, gender identity, class, etc. - are way more likely to be seen as owing their partners loyalty. not just that, but in particular with people who are otherwise oppressed, being loved is seen as almost a favor, because again, being in a romantic relationship is supposed to be your exclusive golden ticket to heavenly happiness and whatnot, and oppressed people (esp queer ppl and poc) as seen as undeserving of that, and effectively denied that in many ways, so they are more likely to want to stay in a toxic relationship out of fear that they won’t ever find anything better (it’s not a coincidence that “no one will ever love you like i do” is such a common phrase to hear from abusers). also, let’s not forget that even the right to break up in itself is something that had to be fought for. the feminist movement spent years trying to make divorce legal (in the places where it is) and still fights to make it be seen as acceptable. if it weren’t for other pressures trying to change the rules of monogamy, a “breakup” would quite literally not even be allowed, and this always benefits the strongest link

so now that that’s been explained, back to parabataiship. i think the parallels here are very clear - i mean, for one, you can’t really break it up, unless you purposefully use soul tracking or stay away for a long time, so it’s like, old fashioned monogamy. but more than that, breaking your parabatai bond is seen as terrifying. there is a lot of purposeful rethoric that directly says that the pain of the parabatai bond being severed (whether by will or by one of the parts dying) is unmatchable, and that plants a horrible fear into people, to the point where villains use that against parabatai shadowhunters (for example, the owl possessing jace and telling him that it’ll kill alec so he knows what the pain of losing a parabatai is like). this means that loyalty is owed, because even if you just want to be away from your parabatai, this might break the bond and put you through unspeakable pain (in theory. as i’ve been saying, it’s basically been proved that that’s not true, because when jace died that was far from being the worst pain that alec’s ever felt) 

moreover: the whole thing about how this kind of relationship is sacred, above all else, and will bring you a kind of happiness that is impossible to achieve otherwise. this is said many times - like you said, parabataiship is seen as something desirable and that brings honor. the vows are very similar to marriage (the highest pillar of monogamy) vows (“your family will be my family, your people will be my people”, “entreat me not to leave thee”), clary is constantly told that she could never understand the relationship jace and alec have because they’re parabatai and being parabatai is special and basically uncomparable to anything else, even by izzy, who never wanted to have a parabatai (and in the end she ends up wanting to, which reminds me of the whole “oh, you’ll want it once you grow up” trope with heterosexual romantic relationships. like, basically, you’ll want it once you find the right person. that is something aro, gay, and non-monog ppl hear all the damn time). the whole thing about how obviously jace is supposed to be the one alec loves the most, they’re parabatai, the whole thing about how “alec would die for me, we’re parabatai” like that is unquestionable; the souls becoming one, the being able to feel each other’s feelings and blah blah blah. in short: sacred, above all else, and, unless you do something very wrong, able to bring you a kind of connection and happiness you wouldn’t be able to get otherwise no matter how strong your feelings or your compatibility is; and once you get it, you can’t get out

and then there’s the imbalance it brings. like i said, notably in monogamy as a pillar of heteronormativity the imbalance lays on women, altho other factors can change that balance or be more prominent. with parabataiship, there’s an obvious trope of queer people getting heterosexual parabatai and being very obviously the weakest link (alec with jace, michael with robert, there are others but i don’t remember. the exception to this is luke, who is written as equally heterosexual and, in the books, equally white, to valentine, but who’s still the weakest link anyway because valentine gains power and prestige luke doesn’t have). again, the whole “alec would die for me” thing tells a lot. he didn’t say “we would die for each other”. he said “alec would die for me”. despite the rethoric being that both parts should be endlessly devoted, the expectation that one should fulfill that obviously falls harder on one than on the other. with monogamy, there’s even a kind of rethoric that you have to work for the reciprocation to be there (for example, victims of domestic abuse being told that if they dedicate themselves to their partners enough, the abuse would stop, like they owe their partners dedication and love and comprehension, and then their partners will give it back only once they get enough of it) that we haven’t really seen with parabatai (at least i don’t remember it) but that i wouldn’t be surprised to see present there. after all, alec can feel it when jace gets a papercut and jace can’t tell when alec is literally dying, and none of that is ever questioned in canon

and then the imbalance is kept because, again, breaking up parabataiship is unthinkable and shameful, not to mention kind of impossible/not allowed to do officially. so the weakest link is basically stuck in this situation of imbalance and, in many cases, toxicity and abuse, but can’t break out of it and effectively feel guilty because according to everything they’ve ever been told, they should be elated that they’ve found their one and they should be happy. if they aren’t happy, then they’re broken, or not trying hard enough, and it’s taboo to even talk about that

again, i’m not saying that all monogamous relationships or all parabataiships are toxic, okay? i’m saying that, as a structurer of our society (and sh’s fictional society) they favor this kind of dynamic, allow it, and justify it through their ideologies. in the same way that heteronormativity allied with misoginy makes it more likely for women to be abuse or r-word victims than men. is every het relationship toxic? no. is heteronormativity toxic? yes. monogamy works the same way

in short, parabataiship is not a relationship model. or rather, it is, but way before and more than that, parabataiship is an ideology that is specifically structured to subjugate shadowhunters, notably queer shadowhunters, and keep their loyalty to each other and to the clave, and most of its rethoric (nothing can ever be stronger than the love for a parabatai, nothing can match the pain of losing a parabatai, parabatai are one and the same and they share a soul) is absolute bullshit built to make it more desirable and make sure that structure is left unquestioned. a plotline that questions the buildings of parabataiship and shows how the whole myth that’s around parabataiship is that, a myth, built to subjugate and control people, would have been amazing, but of course we couldn’t get that so crumbles of meta it is

me: i’m tired of discourse in my blog i’m going to chill for now. me the very same day: what if i went on my first more detailed anti-monogamy rant when that is 100% guaranteed to attract aggressive people who can’t read and also criticized sh fandom’s beloved parabataiship all in one post?

[revvnant]

this is a wip of a tma-style statement, it needs a lot of cleaning up and it’s not actually done but it is rather long and i did say i’d post it. extreme cw for: bullying, abuse, unreality, gore, psychological horror

"I like to think that the first four years of my life were rather good. A loving mother. A loving father. Good health, a family with a relatively stable income, plenty of opportunities to explore and learn... you might even call it a charmed life. And I know that it's a bit hypocritical, to say all of this and then to complain immediately -- and I know that it's petty, maybe pettier than anything else, and more typical than anything else, to say that a baby ruined my life. But it did. And then a second one ruined it again.

"Let me say for the record that it wasn't their fault. It wasn't their fault that my parents should have gotten a divorce, it wasn't their fault that my father's business was just getting off the ground and he had to be away far more than he was here, and it wasn't their fault that my mother had issues of her own, and was too stressed to take care of them. It wasn't their fault that we only looked good in Christmas albums, and it wasn't their fault that we lived so close to the Emilies, and saw them every day, and that Henry Emily and his wife somehow always seemed to have time for their kids when my parents didn't. And Hell, maybe even that's an assumption on my part. Maybe Sammy and Charlie were in the same boat as us, behind closed doors. I wouldn't have known. If they were, they weren't in it long. And neither were Evan and Elizabeth.

"I told myself all this in the beginning. I was actually kind of proud of it. Four, then eight, and I felt like the head of the household. It felt good to be called 'little man', to be told they were my responsibility. It was fulfilling to bring them to and from the bathroom, and to help them with their homework. Even by the time I was eleven, my homework was easy. The work that mattered, anyways -- the math, the science, it came quickly to me. I thought I was so capable, at first. And Mum was still around, so it didn't matter when I slipped up. Sure, they'd get angry, they'd ask me what I was thinking or why I hadn't remembered to feed Liz or to pick Evan up from school, but... that didn't really matter to me. I was a kid. I was interested in dinosaurs, and astronauts, and Freddy's. More than anything, I was interested in Freddy's.

"We went there all the time, because Dad owned it, and Mr. Emiily was his partner, and they had made the most amazing walking, talking stuffed animals I had ever seen. When I learned what an animatronic was, and that I could make one, I was even more excited. I couldn't help but think that they were for me. Why wouldn't they be? They were made in my house, by my Dad. They were my bunny, they became my brother's bear, my sister's fox and dolls. How could I not feel a little possessive? A little-- it would have been okay if it was a little. If it hadn't gone to my head. Because I wanted to make them, and I wanted to be like the person who made them. When he shouted, I shouted. When he threw things, I threw things. I know that he didn't do it where I could see. And I know he didn't know that I was still watching from the stairs, or the crack in the door. My parents solved their problems by getting into fights, so I solved my problems by getting into fights, and that made them fight more.

"At first it was okay. And then they started fighting with me. I didn't get it. I was doing what I was supposed to be doing. And then I realized Mum wasn't looking at me the same way anymore. Not the way she looked at Evan, and Beth. Her eyes would always slide away from me. Like she couldn't stand to see me. I knew I was causing problems, but I didn't really get what it meant. I didn't get why it had to be a big deal if I hit someone on the playground, or kicked my teacher, or said a 'bad word' in class. They did it all the time. They did it to each other and they did it to me. And I did it back. And my father threw something at me.

"I don't know why she didn't just take us out of there. And I don't know why she never cared when I cried. She would run straight to Evan when he planted his butt on the carpet and turned on the faucets, but me? Get up, Michael. Set a good example. I wasn't a very good example. But I tried to be. And I sort of got where they were coming from. It felt good to make Evan cry. When I was upset, when English was too hard, when I didn't want to make them dinner or drag them kicking and screaming to the bathtub, I could just yell, and they would melt down right there. The path of least resistance, or something. Better crying than kicking me. That's probably what my parents thought about me. 

"It felt... really good. I'm not going to lie. It felt good to push kids on the playground. It felt good to know I could steal shit from them and they wouldn't be able to do anything about it. It felt good to know that Freddy's was my place, and anyone who came there couldn't mess with me or the people I liked. I chose three of them, to round us out. A set of four, just like in the cartoons. We didn't like each other much, but we hung out, and that was what mattered. You could say we didn't talk about important things, but maybe trading cards and TV shows were the important things to us. What was I supposed to do? Tell them that I couldn't hang out because my stupid brother couldn't get through a worksheet without throwing a fit? Or that I had to stay home and fix my sister's dolls that she left in front of my room, and it was somehow my fault for breaking them when I stepped on them? Hell no. They weren't going to listen to me in there, so I made everyone else listen outside, and yeah, I did it with my fists, and yeah, it wasn't good, but it got results. It-- got results until it... didn't. Or... it did. Too much at once.

"I know I hurt him before. I know I pinched him, and kicked him, and slapped him, and pulled his hair. I know I did everything I could to get him to fight shit. I know I threw my food at him, and splashed him with water, and chucked shoes at him, because that's how we talked in my house. I know it was bad. I know he-- wouldn't have forgiven me for any of that, even as it stood. But I didn't have to take it that far. I didn't have to-- I knew not to. But I thought it would be funny. He was so scared of them. Of the animals. My real friends, and my only friends. I wasn't thinking, I just wanted to make him cry more, because they'd set up this whole stupid party for him and he didn't even like it, and he didn't appreciate the fact that Dad still threw him parties, and didn't ask him to be grateful afterwards, and that sitting in front of the cake wasn't like being in a fucking electric chair because you knew he was watching your every move to make sure you knew that this came from him. No, he was crying. He was at the best place on earth, and the best person on earth still loved him, and he was fucking miserable. So I-- I thought I'd give him something to cry about. Something that would make my friends laugh, and make them remember not to mess with me. Three birds with one stone. A really solid throw. 

"I... didn't mean to. I really didn't mean to. I didn't know it would do that. They all think I meant it. Dad, and Beth, and my friends, and Mister Emily, and the whole town think I meant it. They think I murdered him. I-- did murder him. But it wasn't on purpose. And nobody would believe me. And then it wasn't just a matter of wanting attention anymore. I would have given... anything, to go back to that. To go back to Dad throwing stuff at me or ignoring me. To go back to Mum... being alive, to be with me in the hours that she was home and could get out of bed with a migraine or stand to be around my father. To have Evan again, and treat him better. But I couldn't. And from that point on I was-- waiting for him to kill me. And I think we have to talk about my father, and Freddy's. 

"I had... a complicated relationship with my father. Like I said, it was good when I was very young. He would talk to me for hours, take me everywhere with him, though part of me thinks that had more to do with his schedule than wanting to spend the time with me. But still, given that even that disappeared later, it was something. And like I said, as I grew older, he had his violent moments. I don't think he ever hit me directly. Mostly he yelled. Sometimes he threw things. Once he cut me across the face with the knife he was holding because I reached for something over his shoulder. To be fair to him, I gave as good as I got -- or as good as I could. He was bigger than me, very much so for the majority of my life. Heavier, stronger, mostly he could just push me or grab me and it was over. But I still tried. It felt like giving up not to fight back. After all, I knew I hadn't done anything wrong. I-- thought I hadn't done anything wrong. I mean, I know I got in trouble. But... I don't know. I had to do something. I was-- scared. 

"It just went on so long that at some point I thought, well, he's going to kill me someday. And I'm going to look like an asshole if I don't make it hard for him. So I did. Every day. Every time he threw something at me I was determined to throw it back. Every time he shouted I was determined to shout back. What was I going to do? Cry like Evan? He wasn't going to kill Evan. Crying wasn't going to make him feel bad for me. It never had. I could lie down and cry and he would stab me or smash my head in or whatever, and it'd be a really embarrassing death-- and I think you maybe understand why I wasn't talking about this with my gang in the junkyard. I don't think their parents wanted to kill them. Maybe sometimes, but they didn't act on it. He did. And I knew it was a matter of time before he succeeded.

"And then he killed my mother.

"I know it was him. I saw her go downstairs. She never came back up. But he did. I know they were fighting before that. I don't care that he cried. He could always do whatever the cameras wanted him to do, and he could make me do it too. All his stupid advertisements-- he said Henry was the personable one, and I guess that's true, but he was selling himself short. But I knew him, better than anyone. I saw him up close when he came upstairs. He knew something. He was hiding something. Her. Her body. I don't know where he put it. I mean-- I do now. Because I found it. But we'll get to that.

"So he had a body count. Which meant I was next. She may have hated me-- but I don't think she wanted me dead. And then... I had a body count too. And mine was public. Really public. And if I ever brought it up again, it was so easy for him to hit back that it just-- stopped having any weight. But I never forgot. I guess I just thought... we were the same.

"And we were alike in a lot of ways. It was more than just the face. His gift for math and machines, he gave that to me. It just came so easily. A wrench felt right in my hand. I could have tinkered for hours and been happy. Whenever he let me into the workshop, God, it was like a fantasy. I watched everything he did and tried to copy him, and then I started learning on my own. It was nice, to share that with him. I think he enjoyed when I was down there with him. We got along in there, because our minds just worked the same way. Oh. And the anger that was rotting away at him-- he gave that to me, too. 

"I know I said-- I fought back. I explained why I had to. Why I couldn't cry. Because he wouldn't care. But that doesn't mean I didn't... want him to care. I wanted him to care so bad, I-- I would've done anything. Anything... and after Evan, it was just... it was gone. I tried. We had good days, good weeks even. But there was no chance of him ever loving me again. I accepted that about as much as I accepted my death: I fought back. I tried to be sweet with him, tried to do everything he asked, thought maybe if I just rolled over for once, that would be the trick. I'd tried fighting and it hadn't gotten me anywhere. Maybe if I was nice, and did what he said... I don't know. I kept switching between one and the other, hoping to catch him, hoping it'd work and at some point we'd synch up. It never did. And I was so used to being angry, sometimes it still-- I didn't do a very good job. But I took care of Beth, I tried to show him that I'd changed. I tried to change. He didn't see it.

"I think... by that point... I was just sort of this amorphous thing that lived with him. I don't think he saw any of me, past a point. Maybe an annoyance. Someone to feed. Someone to... give jobs to. I was bad at keeping those. But I don't even think he registered me as a person enough to really be disappointed or embarrassed. Just a little bit, maybe? But not a lot. Unless we were in the workshop. Then he saw me. He called me smart, said I was his-- I was... 

"I worked at Freddy's for years because I had to. But I loved the animatronics, still. Even after all of that. And I loved how he looked at me when I figured them out. Like we were the only two in the whole world who knew those secrets. It was our place, and our time, and I just wanted to stay there, with him. Because he almost loved me, there. And I wasn't angry. 

"Then Beth died. I left her with him for one day-- fuck, I'd forgotten-- I'd been so busy trying to convince him to forgive me and let me back in that I'd forgotten he killed people. And he killed her. I didn't put the pieces together right away, I was so stupid. But he did. He killed her. He modified my designs and he used them to kill her. I guess he must have regretted it, decided he got the wrong kid, or did us in the wrong order. Or maybe she was just bait. I don't know. But he sent me down there, and they thought I was him. I told him everything that I saw in that place and he still told me to go and find her, and I did it, because I was an idiot. Honestly, just for being that stupid, I deserved what happened.

"They disappeared, one by one, night after night, these things that we had made together, the one that was my sister and the one that was my mother and crunched her bones when it spun on its stage. The fox, my fox, my bear, that he'd modified to lure them in and trap them, just like he had the others. I followed the trail of cables and breadcrumbs to the place they called the Scooping Room. It was her voice, you see. Hers, its, and then theirs. I didn't recognize them or realize the mistake that I had made until the arm of the Scooper had cracked open my skull and parted my stomach, and they pulled the intestines from my abdomen and strung them over the equipment like they were streamers, and it was a birthday party. Their birthday party. I died as they were born, as they took everything from me and then slipped me on like a suit. I felt the metal push and pull at my body that didn't fit them quite right, and they ground my skull down to make room for their own head, and they stretched my legs out past where they should have been, and they tore my throat and sewed it back together again with wires to fit all of their voice boxes and mine. And they spoke in my voice when we left that night. They'd left my eyes.

[magnumdays]

Magnum PI 2x19 “May the Best One Win”review AKA Fangirling over my new favorite episode

Staring off we got the whole Magnum introducing Higgy as his partner...or TC’s fiancee and TC being all “we cool man?” and Magnum saying what us fans were all screaming last week (Magnum: IT MAKES SO MUCH MORE SENSE IF SHE MARRIES ME! I WANT TO BE HER KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOUR DAMMIT!)

Then Higgy is all “If you are done fighting over me...” - I mean, just, yeah, throw that in there just to torment me some more.

We basically transitions right into Magnum suggesting a divorce lawyer for Higgy in case she and TC ever “hit a rough patch” and her being all “I’m marrying TC to make sure WHAT WE HAVE doesn't get FUCKED UP, can’t you see that?” (I’m paraphrasing but that was the gist of it) I just can’t with this. It’s like 2 minutes in and I’m like in shipper heaven.

Anyways, then we have the case! The let’s work both sides and make double the money and just the whole both spouses think the other is cheating but it’s all just a big misunderstanding and goodness, happiness and love wins in the end? It totally works for me. This is the kind of PI cases I WANT. Like not super serious people dying cases and shoot outs! People just being stupid and Magnum and Higgy helping uncover their secrets and then making everything better!

We also get the “May the Best PI win!” which I’ve been waiting for since we got the spoiler bit for this ages ago. 

So we got a side plot with Rick that I really- REALLY - like for once! Want to guess why? BECAUSE IT TIES INTO THE THEME! Like huh? They manged that for the first time since forever? 

Yeah, I’m shocked too. But someone really thought about this or they got really lucky by chance because;

First we got the married couple not communicating and about to lose their chance at a love and a happy future because of it. When all their secrets are out they can finally start to fix things and heal.

Secondly we got the woman whose dad dies and she tries not to care because they didn’t have contact for so long but when Rick goes looking he realizes her dad did care and he lost his chance at love because he didn’t communicate. Now she can hopefully heal from both the sadness of her dad leaving as a kid and being dead and be a little happier.

Then we maybe kind of have Higgy who by deciding to actually listing to what she’s feeling for once and deciding not to get married to TC for the wrong reason/ not wanting to live a lie (making it possible for her to find love and happiness with the right person in the future...)

I don’t know, maybe the Higgy one is reaching a bit but the main theme of we don’t know what we or other people are really feeling or thinking and we act anyway, that’s when we get in trouble pretty much work for everything.

Which is a really freaking great + it’s a good theme! It’s true but no so on the nose as something like ‘don’t lie’ or ‘love fixes everything’.

So yeah. Now back to the Miggy godness.

We got: 

married-not-married arguing

Kumu’s “The way you two bicker you might as well be married.”

I mean! Come on!

Then fun times with Higgy getting all the guys to do her bidding...and also actually paying for gas! I do hope this comes back in season 3 where Magnum realizes his pals actually deserves praise and compensation/ or them being all “we’re not helping unless you pay us like Higgy does”.

This could be a character growth kind of possibility arch, thingie, episode or whatever for next year.

The other arch for Thomas Magnum I really want to see in season 3 is the I’m FINE (but I’m not) one kind of lead to something (something bad). 

I know they’re going for a go-lucky kind of Magnum but fact is Magnum is a solider who spent time in a POW camp, he was betrayed by his ex-fiance, one of best friend got tortured and killed like not super long ago, his ex-fiance came back and shot him then came back again and died in his arms, his partner nearly drowned and he CPR her back to life, he thought he had a future with Abby but she dropped him like a hot potato and most recently he got swapped out of his (fake) wedding last minute, then fake wedding didn’t happen and he though he’d be separated from the love of his life his partner for an unknown amount of time and all he’s been saying is “I’m fine”. 

He’s got some baggage and having him always go I’M FINE isn’t really good or healthy because he isn’t fine. He doesn't have to be fine. Except when he acts like he’s not fine (like after Abby) everyone just tries to make him cheer-up when maybe he kind of needs to talk to someone about the kind of wacky stuff he’s been through. This is both something he and Higgy and even the guys need to work on. Basically it was only Gordon who was like, it’s rough, I’m here for you. I mean Higgy was there for him too, she just said “Staycation” a lot to make it not seem like she was because emotions, scary. 

Still I need like Magnum having nightmares about something and actually being all “I’m not fine” and for someone to go “okay. that’s fine. you don’t have to be okay all the time” (Oh this just screams at me to fanfic:it, but I just can’t start anymore of them without finishing a few. So bad thought, bad, go away.)

So, um where was I before I got sidetracked? Oh, right the general wonderfulness of the episode?

Gordon making Magnum say: I’m kinda useless without Higgins.

Then having Magnum take hacking lessons from like a 12 year old on Youtube and begging Kumu lie about having seen Higgins computer (how has he not gotten his own laptop yet???) 

I mean it’s almost not funny anymore (It is. It’s legit the most I’ve smiled in a while.)

“Maybe I’ll let the wife decide“ when buying pie and then bringing said pie back to Higgins. 

“There’s a hug and then there is a hug.”

(I needed this to be foreshadowing and IT WAS NOT! I still can’t hate it because she kind of agree there are different hugs and now I want all the hugs for them...or you know just one! ONE HUG!)

And winner of this round of random things I loved, might be: “You figure out I’d make a better fake husband than TC?”

Can you be more obvious Magnum?

Then Higgins saying “I do still need a maid of honor!” (which we know isn’t true because last week she said she’d asked Kumu but we’re assuming she’s saying it just to tease him). But this made me think of that move Made of Honor movie with Patrick Dempsey where the guy she asks to be her maid of honor is actually the guy she ends up really marrying... at some later point.

Also has anyone sounded more British than Higgy going; “Oh no not the pie.“ after Magnum was all; “I’m taking my pie with me!” 

Then we got my babies being sneaky and adorable and working together (because you know, even when they’re not on the same team, they are).

Then we got them kicking ass together (well more like getting their asses kicked) and only Higgy getting the gun saves them. But you know, that’s okay because I love it when she gets to be a bad-ass and knock people out. 

I do feel like we need to work a little more on the realism on how bruises work on pale people, especially girls. Because you know, Higgy got slammed into like a table and slapped and seriously has anyone been slammed into a table by a really big guy lately? Well, and let me tell you from experience, even being slammed into a table by a small guy leave a bruise. And no way would she not get a swollen eye or lip from a slap that spun her around and landed her on the floor. Do you know how hard you need to slap someone for that? I mean she’s tiny (she’s what 5′4? 1115 pounds soaking wet?) and the guy was big but, still in real life she wouldn’t even be getting up, she’d be out cold, but it’s TV-land so I’ll forgive it but still, wouldn’t a tiny bit of blood on her lip make sense?

It’s kind of strange because sometimes they seem to really like putting the blood and gooe make-up on both Perdita and Jay and other times it’s like, nope, nothing, we’re invincible vampires this episode.

For today I understand the why of it though. They wanted our babies to look pretty for the wedding. Well, the wedding that doesn't happen which we all knew but still... 

Before that though; TC planing on crying at his fake wedding? Adorable.

First of all how does she mange to look both stunning and terrified this whole scene? 

Look at her big eyes with the I’m about to cry shininess. Also the flower bits in her hair totally not her yet somehow totally works. 

I also love how when he first enters he stops and looks at her for a second, like Higgy in a wedding dress. I think I might have some feels. And come on Thomas, couldn’t you have told her she looks nice? You can clearly see she’s freaking. But no you go straight for the “fake nerves?” which I guess makes sense because maybe someone told you there was only 2.5 minutes left of the episode so there was no time for compliments...

Anyways, then comes the heartbreaking bit. Because she has changed her mind and isn’t going to marry TC (or him). She’s not going to marry anyone and she’ll have to leave him.

Leading us to the “Just fine.” moment I equally hate and love. 

Don’t they both kind of look like they’re about to cry here? I feel like that’s the general vibe, or maybe it was the fact that I was tearing up a bit when I first watched it that makes me feel like that...

And as always tumblr stole the stuff I wrote here! I wish I’d learn and could go one week without losing like a chunk of text.

So I was just basically saying I loved this but I’d much rather have had Magnum go “No, I won’t” (when she says he’ll be fine) and then have her be “yes you will” and then he could just be Shrug or go “I guess I’ll have to be” or something else dramatic to show it’s a big deal to him. Then next week we could have him be really trying hard to reach Robin instead of having it all just be fixed with one little phone call. Like maybe Robin is undercover for his new book so Magnum has to make some sort of deal with some shady person who works for Robin to get his undercover contact. Or something and that could come back in season 3 as an episode...

Wow, this got kind of long, but yeah, I just loved this episode and wanted to gush about it and probably I won’t gush (or even complain) as much about 2x20 so it’ll even out in length...

[vaguely-concerned]

Twisted Fate/Graves thoughts 2 Electric Boogaloo because none of you can stop me

and I just have a lot of feelings okay

- t.f. taking an entire paragraph mid-fall during a harrowing life or death chase to give you the context for how much the imminent destruction of his boots is a  tragedy is the funniest and most endearing character detail and also irrefutable proof that despite appearances he, too, really does only have that half a brain cell, it simply pingpongs around in there much more than graves’ half (which instead finds one idea and GOES HARD for it no matter what lol bless him)   

also his pov is basically just a flippant ‘well this is a goddamn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation’ until graves literally forces him to have an honest emotion at gunpoint, and y’know... that be what love feels like sometimes when you’re like that as a person, extremely relatable, I feel for him so much

- I’m still just quietly astounded by the hmmm... implied intimacy? I guess? in the argument they’re having once they’re actually talking in burning tides. let’s look at what they’re actually saying to each other:     

T.F.: “Are you ever gonna learn? . . . Every time I try to help you, I-” and “ I tried to get us out. The rest of us saw the job was going south . . . But you wouldn’t back down. You never do.”

vs.

Graves: “You’ll run again. That’s all you’ve ever done.” and “You made out alright, though . . . You know why? It’s because you’re a coward. And nothing you’ll ever say can change that.” 

like them’s the sort of fraught fighting words you have with a spouse right towards the end of an ugly divorce, the full fruitless ‘why do you always have to --’ and ‘but you never listen to me!!!’ deal, especially from graves’ side lol. it’s the sort of hurtful you can really only be with someone you’ve been very, very close to, someone you know incredibly well. considering the whole backstory what graves is essentially saying here is ‘It’s your own fault people have left you; you deserve to be alone’.

(interestingly, in twisted fate’s pov it seems that what’s really messing with him is the part of not being listened to. he tried to plead with his family and they refused to listen, he tried to convince graves to run away with the rest of them and he didn’t listen, and here they are again and graves isn’t listening  a g a i n  and at that point t.f. clearly just sort of. gives up on actually being heard, in a slightly heartbreaking way. and from how graves reacts to seeing that I really think he’s not naturally cruel like that at all, he’s just in too much pain to think until this startles him out of it and then he does actually listen)

- through both stories graves is so desperately, enduringly horny for t.f. to be emotionally present and engaged with him without slipping away into his ~*cool magic gambler*~ persona and I find it weirdly sweet 

- graves immediately getting fond of this leaky battered old rowboat... hfsadkjfhasd he’s sort of adorable in a way? it’s also really cute how he’s got this really tight focus on tf and his mannerisms and how genuine he’s being at any given moment. it’s such a neat way to show what he’s feeling and thinking about, which must be hard with a character who’s so massively oblivious to the finer points of his own inner life lol  

ALSO can we talk about how tf literally winks at him at one point, right after they’ve sort of had a little moment of regained trust... like my good sir that is so deeply unnecessarily saucy of you, please control yourself (though in his defense graves somehow still isn’t picking up what he’s putting down so y’know maybe subtle isn’t the way to go here anyway haha)

- I wonder if t.f. used to go by his initials even before he changed his name -- graves calls him by it straight off the bat in burning tides and t.f. seems to consider his real name mildly embarrassing lol. (also intriguing that he does appear to think of it as his ‘real name’, and not ‘old name’ or something like that. it’s why I feel like we’ve got more of a dual identity going on here than a deadname situation, it feels more like two distinct levels of emotional vulnerability/availability to me. and so ‘tobias’ stops being relevant when there’s no one left to know him as that. ow.)    

- from reading his bio it seems like twisted fate has had to figure out a lot of the magic stuff on his own (except for the mention of his grandpa teaching him the fortune telling part of it -- seems like they had a bit of a special connection, really, if him leaving his old cards with the kid before they left is anything to go by). what I’m saying is that I would read thousands upon thousands of words of him experimenting with it when they were younger and graves hurriedly having to topple a table over and pull them both behind it for cover before they both explode lol 

(and then t.f. popping his head up afterwards like ‘hAH see I TOLD you I could do it!’ and graves disconsolately lighting a cigar from the burning rubble b/c the things one does for love partnerships huh)

- I’ve been looking over burning tides with a writing eye a few times to figure out what makes it work so well for me, and one of the things I really like is that there are a lot of small comments/details that are there or are framed in a certain way specifically to emphasize the familiarity and history between the characters. Just small details like He moves fast for a big man. I’d forgotten that and graves mentioning he’s never liked standing too close when t.f. does the teleporting thing -- not to mention t.f.’s name reveal, which if I understand this correctly was actually new information to the readers when burning tides was going on. (and yes it is still very funny to me that his actual name is tobias. the duality of man)   

(I also feel like there are HUGE differences in writing quality between the different POV sections -- I guess different people wrote for the different characters? Well, both of the first person sections are gold and that’s what matters to me in this story so I don’t really mind. Sadly the Miss Fortune parts read the weirdest and stiffest to me, which is unfortunate b/c I love her lore concept a lot and she’s so cool in double double-cross. WHO the fuck let an unironic ‘the crimson-haired siren’ slip through the edit, is what I really want to know. please, narrator, tell me about her cerulean orbs while you’re at it) 

- The man I used to know seems lost under years of hatred.

I don’t try to say anything else. I can see it in his eyes, now. Something’s broken inside of him.

still makes me SO SAD and I’m incredibly happy it turns out not to be true in the end thank GOD

- this might just be me reading into stuff too much, but I really like this sense that in moments of high emotion/genuine vulnerability, graves tends to sound older and more tired while t.f. sounds younger than he actually is, more frightened and hurt

- if his mind hadn’t been completely focused on partner-rescuing and open murder were in any way his style, t.f. totally could have killed gangplank right there and then before miss fortune even got to blow the fucker up haha. then again if that were the sort of guy he were he’d be dead along with all the rest of them

- it’s so good that graves tries to save miss fortune’s guy before they leave the cave but also isn’t broken up about it when it turns out he can’t, that feels like such a correct encapsulation of his moral character haha

- I really do enjoy graves’ POV so much not just because there’s something immensely comforting about how he refuses to be scared even in the face of death because he’s too damn grouchy and won’t give the world the satisfaction, but also because the language/cadence is so satisfying. he does have a way with words, in a gruff non-flashy sort of way.

It smells like the end of everything – sulfur and ash and death; cooked hair and melting skin -- the rhythm of that is so gooood and that whole section conveys the horror and destruction but also the awe of the scene so well. (I’m telling you graves isn’t actually dumb at all, just astoundingly unbendingly single minded once he’s got an idea in his head lol) 

- I keep thinking about the fact that the last two things twisted fate thinks about before he passes out from drowning is if graves is scared and ‘What would Malcolm do?’ and I’m feeling real 😭😭😭 about it

- I’m still so disproportionately intrigued by graves mentioning his mom in burning tides. considering how early and seemingly easily he left home (...not to mention that he brings her up in connection with someone punching him in the face) it might be a safe bet that they weren’t that close but like. she also seems to be one of the very very few non-revengy things he’s checked up on after getting out of prison. did he send money home sometimes? would he visit whenever they came back to bilgewater? did she ever meet t.f. and if so did she approve or was this a bit of a uncharmable mother in law from hell situation? I um. I want to know these things pls riot it’s for science

.

(First post is over here btw, if anyone’s interested!)

[kingofthenorth49]

The Royal Divorce

It’s 6:30 AM and I just got my first ping back from a team member who is bright-eyed and bushy tailed in the office already and raring to go. He’s replying to an email I had just sent him that to me signals a significant change in direction for this pandemic, or whatever this is.

I love my team. I’ve been fortunate over the last 15 years to have amazing people around me who love what they do.  

I also love what I do.  

Holy crap. It’s Friday, it’s not raining, and the super volcano in Yellowstone hasn’t blown us all into a sunlight starved apocalyptic world where former 20 something zombies walk around devastated streets searching for cell service so they can google how to grow a potato.

Yes, the coffee is that good this morning.

Good morning wonderful people of Facebook, how are you all holding up out there? Shout out to my Canadian peeps who haven’t been allowed off their property since Doug Ford realized he could shut down Canada’s biggest economy faster than his brother could sniff a line a coke of a hooker’s ass.

I miss Rob. He was the real politician in that family. He didn’t pretend.

But I digress.

It’s been a life changing week for me here somewhere on the east coast of Oceania, after 53 revolutions around the sun I made decision to cut some negativity out of my life and I blocked some people. Now I didn’t just block some people on social media, it was made clear to at least one of them to never darken my door again.  

I took my power back this week from two of the biggest bullies of my life.

Now to protect the innocent I’ll not name them because if I did you’d be able to identify the poor family members of those assholes. No, wait. You can’t because I blocked their entire family trees as well because the fruit observed basic rules of physics and they learned the way of their forefathers. I used to say online that I took pride in the fact that in the 14 years I’ve been on social media I’ve only ever blocked one person, a local woman who advocated for the killing of cops. I have lines in the concrete you just don’t cross with me, and that would be one of them. I 100% support the men and women of law enforcement.

This week my position on shutting out negativity changed. I’ll spare you the details (HA, I know, right?) but let’s just say a childhood of abuse to a lifetime of control stopped when I finally said enough. I wouldn’t dare compare my struggle to that of someone who suffers domestic abuse, because I was never physically afraid of them, especially after spending 15 years dealing with those in society who don’t play nice together, but I can now understand what it must feel like for someone who has gone through that process and have gotten to a break though point where they realize it’s not their fault their partner was an asshole.  

There is light at the end of the tunnel and it’s not the train.

As I watched the drama unfold between Princess Peachfuzz and Prince Carrottop and their family, I realized at once the fallacy of life where we think because we shared a common womb that we need to be BFF’s for life, and that there’s a familial pecking order that is irrevocable for life.  

It’s not and this week the divorce was final.  

I mean let’s face it, I realized a few months ago that neither of these people has ever once, and I mean once done anything of themselves for me aside from make my life a living hell at times. But they never had a problem coming to my homes over the years, eating my food, drinking my booze, and then berating me for my life choices, which by the way I’m 100% proud of and you’ll not convince me otherwise that not sucking the family tit dry or finding yourself locked up in prison were better choices.  

There really should be a spray you can use on Liberals.

Anyway, I guess my message to everyone this beautiful Friday morning, the start of a wonderful maritime spring weekend, is to take stock of your life and decide if those who don’t add value to your life are worth letting in. Aren’t you worth it? If you allow any other person to have control of you in anyway and it’s not a mutually beneficial need, then why would you bother? I let my boss control me because I need to work, therefore that’s mutually beneficial, but I don’t need a family member telling me how to live, especially when by every measurable metric I feel that I have lived a much happier life then they have. But that’s just my opinion, and we all know about opinions.

It’s been a great week on a few fronts, work is amazing, and we are making great strides in getting the world set straight again (my alternative rant this week was on Government and how they are like a bunch of bears trying to hump a football.... but I'll save that for next week because that isn’t going to change) and over the past few months I’ve been reminded of why I love what I do. It’s been 17 months of hell but I’m hopeful for the first time in a long time that people may be waking up to the attempted re-engineering of the world, and if the world gets re-engineered to the perfect race and I’m not part of the final solution then so be it.  

I’m going to live until I don’t. I feel you Prince Carrottop.

Folks, it’s been an amazing half century and I’m positive of what I do have control of for the next half will be even better, because I’ve an amazing woman by my side, my kids and families are doing well, I’m surrounded by positive caring people in my circle and am firing on all cylinders towards making my community a better place.  

Note I didn’t say world. The world isn’t my responsibility, my life is and if I live my best life and support those who are living theirs, I know we can make the world a better place without having to say we are making the world a better place. It will be done by osmosis.

Well my coffee cup is empty, but I’ve lots of coffee in the pot and the sun is starting to beam on my face with the promise of a great day. What about you? Is your mug half full or do you need a top up?  

Coffees on here and it’s always on for those who need a safe space and a soft shoulder.

Live everyday like it’s your last, just fight to make sure it’s not. It’s within you to live.

Jim Out!

[darkdevasofdestruction]

OC asks - YuGiOh & Assassins Creed

OH YES, THIS IS GONNA BE FUN~!

--- YU-GI-OH

1. What is your OC’s favorite color?

She loves green! It’s a calming colour that highlight her eyes and gives her a more alluring look.

2. Does your OC collect anything? What do they collect?

Not sure if it counts, as she doesn’t collect physical things, but she loves to take pictures of everything that makes her happy and look at them from time to time.

3. What kind of things is your OC allergic to?

Idiocy. 

4. What kind of clothing does your OC wear?

Black jeans, with a regular green top, a black vest-like trench coat and knee length black boots, so pretty basic.

5. What is your OC’s first memory?

Uhhhh......Like, as a child?  I suppose it’d be when her mother smiled at her and gave her the family heirloom, the Millennium Medallion.

6. What’s your OC’s favorite animal? Least favorite?

She loves all animals, but at first, she loved Wolves the most, since she thought it would suit her loner personality. Her least favourite animal were, ironically, foxes, because her father blamed every mistake on her and her ironic name.  That is, until she meets Seto and Mokie, and becomes friends with Yugi’s group, who taught her that instead of listening to the bad stuff, she should make her own name meaning, and since then, she wore her name and spirit animal proudly.

7. What element would your OC be?

BYFIREBEPURGED

Well, if we go by elements meaning, I think either Earth, because she is a nurturing and healing person who helps others without realising. Either that, or water, because she is calm and relaxes people, but she can also become an outright tsunami.

8. What is your OC’s theme song?

I think “Too Late” by Dead by Sunrise, since it shows how desperate she was to find an escape from the darkness she succumbed to once her mother and younger sister were killed in a car accident and she was left under the strict hand of her father who had inhumane expectations of her and wanted only perfection and for her to follow the path he dictates.

9. Do you have a faceclaim / voiceclaim for your OC?

I never thought of that, to be fair? For voiceclaims no, but I imagine her to have a pretty versatile voice, feminine and casual most of the time, but can go low enough to either sound alluring or have a hint of poison darkness.

As for face claims, while creating my Game of Thrones OC, I stumbled upon this picture and she’s been my “faceclaim” if I can’t do a drawing of her, or if the fandom doesn’t have anime/cartoon characters, but real people.

10. What deadly sin would best represent your OC?

For a long time, I’m pretty sure it would be Envy, because she’s see happy people with no family issues, and envies them so much, having dark thoughts about them.

11. What are your OC’s hobbies?

Games of all kinds, travelling, staying in the nature, relaxing outside.

12. How patient is your OC? How hot-headed are they?

She’s incredibly patient with everyone and everything, in most situation, but can’t handle bad behaviour and dumb questions, especially if repeated, and especially if she’s tired, concentrating or the repetition of the conditions is a much too high number.

13. What is your OC’s gender / sexuality / race / species / etc.?

Kitsune is a human girl, but I haven’t thought of her sexuality or romantic orientation before, since she’s only ever attracted to Seto.

14. What foods does your OC like to eat? What are their least favorite foods?

She loves any kind of home-made food, but can’t stand some sea-food dishes.

15. If your OC could have any pet, what would they choose? Why?

Do foxes count?  If not, dogs and snakes would be her first options.

16. What does your OC smell like?

Okay, so, there’s this perfume and shower gel that I love so much and they smell SO good, like chocolate...So yes, that exactly.

17. How do they make a living? What kind of job do they want / not want? What is their dream job? What do they think of their current job?

She’s a student, so she has no actual job, but her dream job revolves around technology - Either a programmer or a game developer, both options, later, allowing her to work together with Seto.

18. What are your OC’s greatest fears? Weaknesses? Strengths?

She’s afraid of being manipulated and controlled again, insects and loneliness. Her biggest weakness is her kindness and the fact that she has a hard time denying anyone’s requests, so she can very often be walked all over, if someone doesn’t interfere. Her strengths are her perseverance and ambition that keep her going on and not giving up.

19. What kind of music do they listen to? Do they have a favorite song?

She loves rock, trap and indie songs mostly, and has a hard time choosing only one song, but one of them would be Scorpions - “Still Loving You”.

20. If they came from their world to ours (if not already in our’s) how would they react? What would they do?

Honestly, the Yu-Gi-Oh world is pretty similar to ours, so I don’t think it would be a huge problem to adapt, and would try to make friends and pursue her dreams.

21. What personal problems/issues do they have? Pet peeves?

Apart from her family issues with her mother and younger sister dying and her father being a controlling jerk? She gets pretty restless when she feels something is wrong, and would go in an overly-protective mode and often get herself in trouble.

Her pet peeves are when people chew too loud, being too loud in general, people looking at her phone and people who aren’t punctual or go back on their promises.

22. What kind of student were they/would they be in high school?

“The Nerd” trope. Straight As, loner, shy, but that’s mostly because of her father and how he’d punish her if she didn’t do perfect, and would move her to other schools/cities each year, depending on where his business would lead him.

23. What is a random fact about your OC?

Her hair has more personality than she has. No matter how much she tries, she can’t get it nice and neat, so she stopped caring and leaves it as untameable as it wants it to be.

24. What is their outlook on life? What is their philosophy / what do they think in general about living?

She’s a realist that can often slide down to pessimism or fatalism, as she doesn’t actually have any experience in the real world and is afraid of failing  and ruining everything around her.

25. What inspired you to create them / how did you create them? Were they originally a fan-character? What was their personality / design like when you first made them?

Honestly? She’s based on me and how I really am or I’d want to be, in a way. I love how I look with red hair, and I love foxes and their various portrayals and meanings, so I used them to create Kitsune, but instead of giving her black eyes, like I have, I gave her green eyes, like emeralds, to give her that touch of mysterious seductive aura around her.

26. Who is the most important person in their life? Why? Who is the least important to them (that still has an impact and why?

The most important person ALIVE in her life is Seto, because he was the one to take her away from her father and show her they are more than their bad parenting and tragic backstory. (Basically, after some exam results were showed, and she didn’t get the marks he expected, her father went to the principal’s office and realising the girl was using her mother’s old Duel Monsters, proceeding on lighting it on fire, making the girl freak out and put the slightly aflame deck in the principal’s aquarium, before having an outright breakdown, only for Seto to get mad and sass out the father, who was supposed to be a future business partner. When she left the school, she saw Seto and went to thank him, but he only asked if she wanted to babysit Mokuba for a short period of time when he’ll be in another country with business, and from then on, they bond.) On the other hand, the least important person, who still impacts her life, is her father, for the reasons stated before.

27. What kind of childhood did your character have?

Does it count as your usual sob story? Because until she was 13, her childhood was the dream childhood, but when her mother died, it all went down the drain.

28. What kind of nervous habits do they have? Do they stim? Do they have any kinds of addictions?

She tends to wet and bite her bottom lip a lot, she always walks out with earphones and music at max volume to avoid anxiety, walks fast when alone, focuses on her phone to combat the same anxiety and awkwardness, and when impatient or focused, she plays with a strand of her hair, drums her fingers on the table (she likes it when she hears the tapping of her nails), or bounces her leg.

29. If they could choose their epitaph for their grave, what would they choose?

Game over. Respawn time : 3...2...1...

30. Do they want to get married? Why or why not? Would they ever want kids? Do they have kids? Why?

She can’t stand children, they annoy her very much and especially doesn’t want to go through the whole childbirth mess, or have her child hate her. As for marriage...She is afraid of marriages, of rather said, of the possible heartbreak of a divorce, but she wouldn’t actually mind having a dream/fairy tale like small wedding, to make everything beautiful and ethereal.

31. What is their most traumatic memory/experience? What is their favorite memory?

Her most traumatic experience is hearing that her mother and sister got in a car accident, and while her mother was killed on the spot, her sister died in the hospital, in front of her, not long after giving her her favourite Duel Monsters card : Madolche Cruffsant , just because it was hella cute.

Her favourite memory is either her mother teaching her Duel Monsters, or her reading her Disney Princess stories.

32. If they could have one thing in the world, what would it be?

Her mother and sister back to life.

33. Would they ever kill someone? What would someone have to do to push them to kill someone? If they would kill someone, why?

She’d only kill in self-defense or to save someone else, otherwise, the farthest she’d go, is a hell of a beating.

34. What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually?

In a group of friends, she’s the moral and emotional support of the group, as well as the one to attempt to stop others from doing impulsive and reckless decisions.

In a game, she’d be the healer, priest, shaman or white mage.

35. How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories?

Her imagination goes through the roof, as she always day-dreams about literally everything and anything and reads a lot. Yeah, she does worry a lot and lives in the past, but she’s trying to work on it.

36. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?

She needs affections, validation and comfort. (Give her a hug pls) She’s used without it, so she wouldn’t do anything physically/aggressively to obtain it, but it’s eating her alive when she’s overthinking and doubting herself. Other than that, she knows she can obtain everything she wants by herself and just a bit of work.

37. What’s something that your character does, that other people don’t normally do?

I don’t think she does anything special that she does and others don’t... But she likes to carry Mokuba on her shoulders.

38. What would your character do with a million dollars?

Would make sure she doesn’t have to depend on anyone’s money, since she can’t stand being a burden to anyone, and would use the rest to make even more money, so one day, when she’ has a proper and constant living, she could help create animal shelters and donate to different charities.

39. What is in your characters refrigerator right now? On their bedroom floor? Nightstand? Garbage can?

Bubbly soda, water, chocolate and food in the fridge. A fluffy carpet on the floor and nothing else. Her laptop, a bottle of water and a bag of snacks. Fruit remains, empty snacks bags and other random useless things.

40. Your character is getting ready for a night out. Where are they going? What do they wear? Who will they be with?

She’s going on a calm walk on the shore, barefeet, with Seto, feet in water and letting the breeze mess up her hair even more. Kitsune’s wearing a soft coloured flowery patterned  dress that’s above the knee, it’s flowy and somehow transparent with an underskirt, and the sleeves are long and loose, all the paired with a pair of sneakers that she can easily take off, knowing she’s going to the beach.

41. What does your character do when they’re angry? Why?

It takes a LOT to make her to visibly show her anger, but she’s going to become extremely verbally aggressive, insulting, sarcastic, barely able to keep herself from getting physical.

42. Does your character have any scars? Where did they get them from?

Nope, she’s clean.

43. What was the most offensive thing your character had ever said?

“If I wanted to kill myself, I’d climb your ego and jump down to your IQ, that’s lower than your shoe size. In fact, it’s non-existent, much like my respect for you. Get the hell out of my sight, can’t you see nobody wants you here? You’re going to be missed like the leprosy.”

44. How does your character react/ accept criticism?

If it’s not actually an insult or a rude remark, she’ll listen and see what she can do with the advice, more more often than not, she still does whatever she thinks it’s right.

45. If your character was given a slice of pineapple pizza and they HAD to eat it (or something bad would happen), how would they react? Do they even LIKE pineapple pizza?

She never tried pineapple pizza, so she’s not sure how she’d react, but it’s just 1 slice, so it won’t kill her. She’s not a huge pineapple fan though.

46. Your character is given a voodoo doll of themselves. What do they do with it? Do they see if it actually works? She takes a needle and gently pokes her hand, and if it’s actually true, she’s gonna keep that doll a secret for safe-keeping, so nobody will ever be able to use it.

47. Can your character draw? What do they like to draw? Do they doodle?

She’s not THE best artist in the world, but she draws cute things like flowers from time to time to relax. As well as that, she draws flowery borders on her notebook pages.

48. What were their parents like? How has that affected how they are as an adult?

I already talked too much about her father, but her mother was a sweet and kind soul, and incredibly ambitious and playful and competitive, which is why she won countless gaming competitions. Her mother’s angelic soul and kindness was the way she wanted to grow to be, and whenever she gets angry, she gets reminded of her father and hates herself for doing something he does that she hates so much.

49. Does your character like candy? Do they get sugar rushes? What are they like when they get a rush?

She loves sweets, but she doesn’t feel the need to eat too many, especially at the same time, so she doesn’t get sugar rushes, nor does she get hyper.

50. If your character was presented with imminent and unavoidable death/fatality, how would they react? Would they try to avoid death anyways? Would they try to make their last days count?

She would cry a lot and would try anything in her power to alter her fate, but if it isn’t possible, she’ll try to spend as much quality time with Seto, Mokie and Yugi’s gang as possible.

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ASSASSINS CREED

I haven’t gotten around to actually drawing anything for AC unfortunately, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get around to do it ^^”

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1. What is your OC’s favorite color?

She loves Green and Blue, but the longer she stays in Masyaf, the more she misses the beautiful shade range of purple and lavender.

2. Does your OC collect anything? What do they collect?

In her time, she didn’t collect anything, but when she traveled back in time to Masyaf’s 1191 timeline, she started picking different flowers, pressing them in an empty tome that Malik gifted to her, and together with him, she would draw the flower on the other page, and write information about the plant in cause, with the help of her beloved Malik, both in her language and in his.

3. What kind of things is your OC allergic to?

As to quote a line from the Secret Crusade novel...

“Stupid Altair. Arrogant Altair. He was in trouble.”

4. What kind of clothing does your OC wear?

During her time, in the Japanese Brotherhood, as she is the Master Assassin of the Stealth branch, she wears mostly black, light clothes that allow her to sneak around, spy, snipe and blend in.

In Masyaf time, she had to wear the usual male Assassin outfit that literally engulfs her, which is really annoying as she can’t play to her strengths, so she has to fight quite a lot to get some practical adjustments to the outfit, and ones that won’t attract civilian nor templar unwanted attention.

5. What is your OC’s first memory?

Her elder brother singing this song to her : LULLABY

6. What’s your OC’s favorite animal? Least favorite?

She loves foxes so much. She knows she looks like one, and she uses everything to her advantage, and since she doesn’t actually remember her real name, she chose “Kitsune” as her assassin name.

Also, keep spiders away from her, or she’ll feel her soul leave her body in a split second.

7. What element would your OC be?

Fire. Without a speck of doubt. She’s a little, smug firecracker.

8. What is your OC’s theme song?

I think “Demons” by Starset works pretty well, as whilst she’s a strong person, she still has moments of weakness and needs someone by her side, before she loses control of herself and become someone she’d hate.

9. Do you have a faceclaim / voiceclaim for your OC?

Same person as before. I don’t know who she is, but she’s my muse.

10. What deadly sin would best represent your OC?

I believe Pride is going to give her a looot of trouble.

11. What are your OC’s hobbies?

She loves ice skating, singing, dancing in the moonlight and chilling on the grassy ground, watching the clouds pass by.

12. How patient is your OC? How hot-headed are they?

This little firecracker is somewhere in the middle ground, because yes, she is definitely patient in a lot of circumstances, but Gods, when she gets angry or impatient, you can literally see fire around her.

13. What is your OC’s gender / sexuality / race / species / etc.?

Kitsune is a human girl who never thought of love, as she was married to her work as an assassin, but when she arrives in Masyaf, she falls in love with Malik Al’Sayf.

14. What foods does your OC like to eat? What are their least favorite foods?

Cherries! She loves fruits in general, but she LOVES to seductively eats strawberries or tie cherry steam knots! On the other hand, she won’t eat anything that looks weird or not aesthetic.

15. If your OC could have any pet, what would they choose? Why?

Give this girl a horse, she loves feeling the feeling of wind in her face as she feels the horse speeding up! It’s like she’s on a motorbike again, but a bit different!

16. What does your OC smell like?

Vanilla and Roses <3

17. How do they make a living? What kind of job do they want / not want? What is their dream job? What do they think of their current job?

Kitsune is the Master Assassin of the Japanese Brotherhood’s Stealth Branch, so it’s needless to say that she gets her pay from this.

18. What are your OC’s greatest fears? Weaknesses? Strengths?

She fears getting close to anyone, only to have them dying on her again, just like her parents and older brother. Her weaknesses are her physical strength, her fear of the unknown and the fear of failure. She is small, fast and agile, has an amazing sight and always does her job at perfection, thanks to her ruthlessness, and can easily seduce and manipulate people with words and a simple bat of her long lashes.

19. What kind of music do they listen to? Do they have a favorite song?

Give her the loudest rock music and the best trap and dubstep remixes, she loves the energy she gets from those kids of songs.

20. If they came from their world to ours (if not already in our’s) how would they react? What would they do?

She is from our world...Sort of, so she won’t have too much of a problem living her life at leisure.

21. What personal problems/issues do they have? Pet peeves?

She has a hard time straying from the rules or showing mercy because she’s been brought up by the Brotherhood since she was 7. Her parents died at such a young age (as they too were assassins) that she doesn’t remember them, and the man who took care of her, as per her parents’ death wish, died when she had to assist him on her first mission, at 12 years old, which was a chaos and he died saving her so she could make sure the mission was a success.

Her pet peeves are people getting too close to her when talking, breathing too loudly, children misbehaving and slow internet.

22. What kind of student were they/would they be in high school?

She didn’t actually go to a regular school, but was trained and taught by the brotherhood, where she was an incredibly perfectionist and diligent student.

23. What is a random fact about your OC?

She absolutely L O V E S to playfully flirt with people she likes, which makes Malik the one to endure all her flirting.

24. What is their outlook on life? What is their philosophy / what do they think in general about living?

She doesn’t care if she dies or not, as long as she’s happy. She’s an assassin, she’s been fearless for as long as she can remember.

25. What inspired you to create them / how did you create them? Were they originally a fan-character? What was their personality / design like when you first made them?

I love Malik, I want someone to flirt a lot with him, I flirt a lot with my friends, and hell, Kitsune, as I said, she basically myself with green eyes and maybe better make up skills. 

26. Who is the most important person in their life? Why? Who is the least important to them that still has an impact and why?

The most important person in her life that is alive is Malik now, as her “Elder brother” died, and she never got personally close to anyone in the brotherhood, only professionally.

There’s nobody who really influences her negatively, apart from her own self and her perfectionism/over-thinking or the brotherhood creed.

You could say that, half-jokingly, her least favourite person is Altair because he’s a jerk who caused Malik to lose his arm and Kadar to die, but she forgives him when she sees true redemption in him.

27. What kind of childhood did your character have?

It was a pretty basic childhood, her elder brother taking care of her while studying and training for the brotherhood, and for her, that was normality so nothing was weird.

28. What kind of nervous habits do they have? Do they stim? Do they have any kinds of addictions?

She bites her lip very hard, until the point she draws blood, she cracks her knuckles a lot and she has a sort of internet addiction that went down the drain when she went back in time and realised her Brotherhood wouldn’t/couldn’t bring her back in her times.

29. If they could choose their epitaph for their grave, what would they choose?

I went down in the flames of success, so better throw my ashes in the Haunted Mansion from Disneyland Paris, or I’m gonna haunt everyone.

30. Do they want to get married? Why or why not? Would they ever want kids? Do they have kids? Why?

She’s an assassin, so she sees no reason to marry, or worse, have children, which she can’t stand. However, that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t want to to wear a pretty dress, have a nice hairstyle and make up and dance in the moonlight, alone, with Malik. It’s the closest she would get to a normal, domestic family.

31. What is their most traumatic memory/experience? What is their favorite memory?

Her brother dying in front of her, and him yelling for her to finish the mission and return to the Brotherhood, otherwise they’d kill her is a scene that still haunts her every nightmare.

On the other hand, her favourite memory is her brother singing to her that Lullaby, something which she took up and would sometimes sing to Malik, or would sneak out at night and sing while dancing by herself, trying to find a bit of freedom and sense of self.

32. If they could have one thing in the world, what would it be?

Her brother back...And maybe some fucking WiFi and electricity...And a bathtub...With bath bombs...And scented candles...

33. Would they ever kill someone? What would someone have to do to push them to kill someone? If they would kill someone, why?

She’s an assassin who struggles with showing mercy, need I say more?

34. What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually?

She’s the one who flirts and jokes a lot, I guess you could say she’s the popular girl stereotype?

In an RPG, she’d be the assassin, rogue or even warlock or necromancer, without a doubt.

35. How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories?

She doesn’t have too much time to day-dream, but now that she’s stuck in the past, she has more free time to do nothing but imagine random scenarios that would never happen.

Kitsune doesn’t live in the past or future, she lives in the moment...In a way that is borderline robotic and as if she tries to forget the fact that she’s human at all.

36. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?

She wants to find a life that won’t bind her to the Brotherhood in a way that she’d have to sacrifice everything for it. She wants a normal life that still has some of the assassin thrill, but not the risks...Keep the adrenaline though, she hates getting bored.

She doesn’t know yet what or how to achieve this utopia, but perhaps the fact that she’s in the past, with a Brotherhood that she’s not officially part of, might prove enough for her.

37. What’s something that your character does, that other people don’t normally do?

Does anyone flirt in Assassins Creed 1? Because if they don’t, Kitsune does A LOT.

38. What would your character do with a million dollars?

She’d take Malik with her and travel the world, exploring every inch of it, away from everybody she knows, and going to all theme and amusement parks.

39. What is in your characters refrigerator right now? On their bedroom floor? Nightstand? Garbage can?

Her laptop, phone and tablet on the nightstand, along with a water bottle and food. She has notebooks and ink and feathers on the ground next to her bed, since she’s usually too lazy to go to the table. There’s...No fridge in Masyaf, unfortunatelly...No more chocolate or ice cream... Lots of sketches and messed up scrolls in the trash.

40. Your character is getting ready for a night out. Where are they going? What do they wear? Who will they be with?

She’s so used to wearing either assassin or sexy clothes, that she chooses to wear something so simple and casual, like a pair of sneakers and a simple sundress, taking Malik on a walk at night, as during the day she wouldn’t really be able to dress as revealing, in public.

41. What does your character do when they’re angry? Why?

She tries to calm herself, but when she can’t help herself, she’d either go physically or verbally violent and harsh, depending on the gravity of the situation.

It doesn’t take long to piss her off, but it takes a LOT to actually get her to lose her temper.

42. Does your character have any scars? Where did they get them from?

She has a scar on the left side of her face, going from the forehead, to her eye and down to the middle of her cheek, because of the accident in Solomon’s Temple when she sneaked to get the artifact.

43. What was the most offensive thing your character had ever said?

“Tell me… Is being stupid a profession or are you just gifted? Why Don’t You Slip Into Something More Comfortable. Like A Coma? Wait, don’t worry, I can help with that. Whatever permission you thought you had to speak to me, I hereby remove. Honestly, did I ask you anything? No? Good, because nobody asked for your opinion, you filthy little mudblood.”

44. How does your character react/ accept criticism?

Can’t take it, especially if it’s not sugar coated or said in a gentle way, so she could understand it’s not an insult or an attack, but a suggestion.

She’d do whatever she wants regardless.

45. If your character was given a slice of pineapple pizza and they HAD to eat it (or something bad would happen), how would they react? Do they even LIKE pineapple pizza?

Pick up the pineapple slices, throw them at Altair’s face, then eat the pizza slice with no problem.

46. Your character is given a voodoo doll of themselves. What do they do with it? Do they see if it actually works?

Would keep it safer than her own heart and would try to track down whoever did the doll, in order to kill them. She doesn’t need potential killers on her case.

47. Can your character draw? What do they like to draw? Do they doodle?

She’s not too bad, but she likes drawings plants, animals and landscapes, which is why she likes to draw every plant she collects. On the other hand, she can’t doodle when absent-minded, she only taps the front of the pen on the table or paper.

48. What were their parents like? How has that affected how they are as an adult?

She didn’t really know them, as they died when she was too young, so they didn’t exactly affect her in any way. They weren’t bad people, despite being assassins, but as far as she heard around the Brotherhood, they were diligent, intelligent and reliable, so she was proud to be their daughter.

49. Does your character like candy? Do they get sugar rushes? What are they like when they get a rush?

She doesn’t get sugar rushes, nor does she eat too many sweets at once, but if she’s in a playful mood, she can get a bit more energetic than usual.

50. If your character was presented with imminent and unavoidable death/fatality, how would they react? Would they try to avoid death anyways? Would they try to make their last days count?

She’d try to see if it can be avoided, but if not, not a big deal for her. She’d just do the weirdest things possible and spend quality time with Malik and Altair, maybe even trying to make the Masyaf Brotherhood a better place, teaching them new healing methods and whatever...If she was in a good mood, at least.